


Baby, Can You Dig Your Man

by dancinbutterfly



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha Sam Wilson, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Alternate Universe - Canon, Anal Sex, Anderson Cooper 360 - Freeform, Annie Leibovitz, Awesome Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Banter, Beta Bruce Banner, Biting, Bond High, Bonding, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Remembers, Canon Divergence - Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Captain America: The Winter Soldier Spoilers, Central Park, Chinese Food, Consensual Mind Control, Discussion of life and injustice in a black and immigrant community pre-American Civil War, Doctors, Friendship, Historical References, Jealous Bucky Barnes, Kissing, Knotting, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Mate bonds, Mates, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Media is a real thing and the Avengers have to deal with it, Medicine, Morning Sickness, Mpreg, New York City, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Omega Clint Barton, Omega Natasha Romanov, Omega Peggy Carter, Omega Steve Rogers, Parenthood, Partial Mind Control, Post-Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Pregnancy, Protective Steve Rogers, Purring, Robots, Science, Science Bros, Seneca Village, Sleepy Cuddles, Some racial issues in chapter 26 - warnings in notes, Steve Rogers is Not a Virgin, Super Soldier Serum, Supersoldiers' baby, The Avengers are good friends, The Daily Show - Freeform, The O'Reilly Factor, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Very light I promise, ellen - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2018-02-27 01:26:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 46,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2673695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancinbutterfly/pseuds/dancinbutterfly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a run in with <strike>the Winter Soldier</strike>Bucky on the never-ending hunt for HYDRA, Steve goes into heat. Now he's expecting but impending parenthood seems like the least of his worries. Hell, if it were the biggest complication he had, Steve's life would be just swell.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pirouette for Science

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [[翻译]Baby, Can You Dig Your Man](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3619260) by [cloooudy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloooudy/pseuds/cloooudy), [dancinbutterfly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancinbutterfly/pseuds/dancinbutterfly)
  * Inspired by [The Ties That Bind](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073725) by [Odsbodkins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Odsbodkins/pseuds/Odsbodkins). 
  * Inspired by [Gordian](https://archiveofourown.org/works/399650) by [fresne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fresne/pseuds/fresne). 



> This is set in an ABO universe. Gendered terms such as he and she apply same as in our world while gendered terms such as mother and father are tied to physical role not the gender in an ABOverse. As such, Alpha, Beta and Omega also have different cultural roles. That said all the Avengers basics are still the same. 
> 
> Elements of this work have been inspired by both Odsbodskins' Ties That Bind and fresne's ABOverse The Phrygian Choices

The proverbial rabbit dies in the form of a plus appearing on the end of a little plastic stick and Steve is less surprised than he should be. Oh he still ends up sitting on the floor of his apartment with his head in his hands but that’s more because he’s swimming in possible consequences than from shock. He did have unsafe sex during heat, after all. What did he expect?

He counts to fifty then fishes his cell phone out of his pocket and calls Sam.

Sam picks up on the second ring. He's good about his phone that way. “Hello?”

“I’m pregnant.” Steve doesn’t really see the point of mincing words with Sam.

“Steve?”

“Yeah. Sam, I’m so pregnant. I think I might pass out.” 

“Are you sitting down?”

“Yes?”

“Well at least you won’t have far to fall.”

“You are so helpful. I’m so glad I called you.”

“I’m honestly not sure what you’re looking for me to say here buddy.”

Steve sighs and leans his head back again the wall. “I’m not either.”

“Okay.” There’s a long silence on the line then the inevitable question inevitably comes. “It’s his right? Barnes?”

“Yeah.” It was just the once. A demolished HYDRA base outside of Minsk six weeks ago. Well, by the time Bucky knotted him, the base was demolished. Two supersoliders mating could take do a hell of a lot of damage even if a building was made of reinforced concrete and rebar. Sam and Natasha had found him alone in the wreckage, fully dressed thank God, but smelling of heat, sex and the pheromones they always emit when they reestablish their bond. 

“Is this a good thing?” Sam asks cautiously. Steve really loves him in this moment. Not _“what are you going to do?”_ not _“you have options”_ but basically _“are you happy?”_

“Yes,” Steve chokes out because dammit, he’s wanted this his whole life. He really has. When he was young, he never thought it would happen. With his asthma and bad heart, he was too weak to even think about being bred by Bucky, even if they did whisper about it in the pitch dark of their apartment when they were both drunk enough to will away reality. 

“Well there you go,” Sam says with smile in his voice. “Congrats man. You’re going to be a mom. That’s pretty freaking awesome.”

Steve looks at the pregnancy test he’s gripping tight in one fist and he smiles too. “Yeah. It is.”

~*~*~

The shadow over this joyful event is that Bucky is still lost. No, that's not right. The Winter Soldier knows exactly where he is and he doesn’t want to be found. But without the father to tell, Steve figures that there are other people he can inform. 

This is happy news after all. He’s not going to let missing his mate ruin this. He’s not. This is the 21st Century. These days Omegas and Beta women have babies without fathers all the time and they do just fine. Great even. He is going to be great. He’s going to enjoy this. 

That might be why he tells Tony next. Tony’s overreactions to everything is a good way to keep things in perspective. He’s also an Alpha and Steve doesn’t want to admit it but he kind of needs some Alpha energy right now. It's the hormones. It has to be. He wouldn’t otherwise let himself into Tony’s lab. He isn’t usually this insane. 

Tony has a lit blowtorch in his hand and one of his awful albums playing over the sound system. With the big dark safety goggles on he looks so much like Howard that Steve hurts just a little. Howard knew he was an Omega, so did Peggy. This conversation might have been easier with him. But then, Howard never smiled as widely as Tony does when he finally notices Steve’s presence.

That’s nice. It’s nice to be greeted like he’s wanted, genuinely and not in a “Thank you for coming to this gala, Mr. National Icon,” sort of way. Tony says hi and gestures for him to sit on about six square inches of empty counter-space and turns his blowtorch up even higher. “You run through all fifty-thousand TV channels and so you came to watch the master work?” Tony asks.

“There’s a master down here?”

“Sarcasm. It shouldn’t still surprise me when you use it but every damn time,” Tony chuckles. “So what’s up Cap?”

“I wanted your thoughts on baby-proofing the tower.”

Tony pushes his goggles up his forehead and turns to stare at him. “Oh god, did Pepper say something to you? Is she pregnant? Because if she said something you need to tell me because I’m probably supposed to just know and I’m terrible at Just Knowing Things with her.”

Steve laughs. “She didn’t say she was pregnant the last time I talked to her.”

Tony sags, clicking off the blow torch. “Thank god. I don’t even want to think about the clusterfuck bringing a suit against Trojan would cause. Like I need more bad press.”

“I am.”

“You’re what?”

“Pregnant.”

Tony laughs again and then stops. His eyebrows knit together then shoot up towards his hairline. He makes a circular motion with his finger. When Steve does nothing, Tony says “Give us a spin would you?”

“I’m only six weeks, Tony, it's not going to show.”

“Yeah, congrats and all that crap. Thats not what I’m talking about. Twirl, baby, twirl. JARVIS, can you call Bruce up here, like now?”

Steve blushed and folded his arms carefully over his chest. His, well, his breasts were already getting sensitive. Side affect of the pregnancy thing. It made glowering a little less effective. “I’m not going to twirl.”

“Come on. Just once. It’s for science.”

“It’s for science just means you want to look at my ass.”

“Normally, yes. You can’t blame me. Your ass is a national treasure, but this time it’s for actual science. I'm going to write stuff down and everything.” The door to the lab slides open and Bruce sticks his head inside. Tony turns to him and waves a hand. “Bruce, tell Captain No-Fun that he needs to give me a pirouette for science.”

Bruce studies the scene and declares. “Don’t listen to him, Steve; he’s a mad man with a blow torch.”

Steve feels vindicated. An ally at last. “See? Thank you.”

“Bruce, no, see you don’t get it. He’s an Omega. It’s totally the answer.”

“Jesus Tony, it’s not your place to disclose my differentiation in this day and age is it?” Steve’s been doing a lot of reading. A lot. He’s pretty sure that’s a big faux pas and not to mention down right rude. 

“The answer?” Bruce says, unfazed. Apparently an Omega Captain America doesn’t bother either of them one whit. Their puzzle though, that’s the cause celebre right now. Steve has no idea what they’re talking about.

“To the super soldier serum. It’s why no one’s been able to get it to work. All the Project Rebirth notes, the paperwork, the newsreels, the comicbooks, they were either lying or misinformed or both. Captain America's not an Alpha or a Beta, Bruce, and he never was.”

“Oh.” Bruce breathes. “Oh my God. The hormone levels. The estrus cycles. The basic difference in bone density and growth processes. That's probably the same reason the Black Widow project worked but not Black Spider.”

“Yeah. I’m no biologist even with high school level anatomy I know its a completely different foundation to work with. You're a Beta right. And wasn't Schmidt an Alpha?”

“Holy shit.” Bruce has to sit down. There’s no more counter space so he takes a seat right on the floor. Steve winces because God only knows what’s been down there. “The entire theory’s been based on the wrong constant.”

“Um,” Steve says, “Listen I’m going to just, you know, go.” He’s going to shop for baby clothes on time until he forgets this entire conversation ever took place. He may also call Sam and see how far he’s gotten in What to Expect When You’re Expecting because every time Steve tries to read it he has a mini-panic attack. 

“Yeah no that’s cool.” Tony says waving him off with the blowtorch. “Congrats again on the mini-Cap.”

Bruce looks up at him. “Mini-Cap?”

“Oh yeah.” Tony is beaming brightly. His teeth are practically glowing his smile is so big. “Someone planted a seed in Rogers’s fertile field. In like eight and a half months he shall reap a bountiful harvest.”

Steve covers his face. “Please don’t ever say anything like that ever again. Pregnant is a fine word. Really.”

“It’s just so much more poetic my way,” Tony laughs. 

Bruce is smiling too but there’s nothing devilish to his expression. He just looks genuinely pleased. “That’s amazing. I’m really happy for you Steve.”

“Thanks.” Steve smiles back. “I’m happy too.” And despite the fact that he is more than a little baffled by the human train wreck and the walking talking science textbook that are Tony Stark and Bruce Banner, he really really is. 


	2. Baby Yoga

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Clint descends from the ceiling to chat with a morning sick Steve. Yoga and bondmates are discussed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love Clint Barton. I don't feel like any more needs be said, do you?
> 
> This will be my last post until December 10th. Sorry about that. Thanksgiving+Graduate School=delayed posting.

Steve is vomiting his cereal up into the toilet bowl in relative peace when Clint drops down from the air vent in his bathroom to crouch next to him. He doesn’t see or hear him so much as feel the thud on the tile floor and the shift in the air. He doesn't hear Clint until he makes a humming noise as he sits down next to him to watch.

When the spasms stop he turns his head to look at him. The morning sickness kicked in halfway through week eight. He forgot how miserable being sick was and he’s not enjoying the reminder.

Clint touches his shoulder gently then hangs something soft over his shoulder. Steve slowly, carefully because he’s afraid if he moves too fast his esophagus will come up too, turns to look at it. It’s a purple elastic sweatband, tennis style. He slips it over his head and hey, his bangs are gone and now he can see.

“Thanks, Clint.”

“My pleasure.”

“I don’t doubt it. You and vents have a strange relationship.”

“They know they’re second place, and they’re okay with it.”

Steve sighs and smiles wanly. “How long did you watch?”

“Just long enough to go get you the headband and come back.” He gently taps Steve’s forehead. “You look boss in purple by the way. You should consider a costume change.”

“Yeah that's at the top of my list of things to do.”

Clint beams at him as Steve maneuvers to sit with his back against the tub. He was breathless and sweaty but his stomach had settled. Clint just folded himself up into something even smaller and goes up on his hands so that he was looking at Steve upside down.

“Have gotten maternity pants yet?” Clint asks, shifting on his hands.

Steve’s jaw drops. He didn’t think he was showing but-

“I can smell you. I can’t smell as well as I can see or anything but I’m pretty good.” He jerks his head in the direction of the toilet. “Plus what else could possibly make a super soldier throw up every day four days in a row?”

“You’re making me dizzy.”

“With jealousy. You wanna do yoga with me? I can totally come up with a good pre-natal routine. You’ll love it.”

“Yoga.”

“It de-stresses. You’ve been under duress twenty-five/eight since the day I met you, Captain. That can’t be good for, you know, growth and things.”

Steve shakes his head. “Growth and things. You should hear yourself.”

“I try not to. Disrupts my flow.” He lifts one hand off the ground to scratch his nose. “What were we talking about?”

Steve is often baffled by the fact that of all of them, Clint is the one with no superpower. He doesn’t move like it. It’s sort of lovely actually, definitely distracting. “The part where you figured out my dark secret and wanted me to do yoga with you.”

“Baby yoga,” Clint clarified. “Lots of hip-spreading stretches for you, my friend. It’ll clear your mind and be gentle on the joints. You know how we omegas have such delicate wee joints.” He rolls his eyes and rolls back into a somewhat normal sitting position, although his legs are sort of thrown up behind his head. He’s at least upright. 

“I didn’t know you were an omega.”

“I know right? Second gender anonymity. It’s a great thing. Best thing about getting out of Iowa, I swear. When no one knows you’re an omega, people don’t freak out as much when you date one.”

“Agent Coulson?” His surprise has taken his mind completely off the puke taste in his mouth. What a world. He wouldn’t have guessed that in a millions years. The man smelled like pure Alpha the few times Steve met him but then what did he know about new-age scent manipulation?

“Oh god no. He’s 100% Alpha. He’s just willing to do all kinds of dynamic-bending acts that dare not speak their names.” Clint grins wolfishly. “Wanna hear about it? Natasha doesn’t anymore because we did most of it together first but I would really like to talk about it because I have awesome sex. Epic sex. Sex worth talking about.”

“How did we get from yoga to this?” Steve asks plaintively.

“Joint exercises. Keep up, mom.” He gives Steve a gentle poke in the arm and Steve pokes back. He’s never been one to just sit back and suffer an attack of any kind after all. Simple poking self defense somehow escalates to a slap fight to them grappling for superiority in the jacuzzi bathtub. Steve is infinitely stronger but Clint is slippery like a fish and eventually retreats back up into the vent where he hangs upside down and just out of reach. “Truce?” He calls, looking edgy.

Steve is laughing so hard his whole body is shaking as he nods. “Yeah,” he chokes out. “Truce.”

Clint drops back down and holds out a hand to help him out of the empty tub. Steve allows himself to be helped up and only trips Clint once on their way into his main apartments. Clint accepts it with all the grace of a clown pratfall and follows him into the living room. He perches on the top of the sofa to stare at Steve as he sits down on the furniture like a normal person.

“You’re the fourth person who knows,” Steve says. “It’s not like the baby’s a secret or something.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I know you didn’t. I was saying that it wasn’t.”

“And why should it be,” Clint agrees. 

Steve stares down at his hands. They are large and unlined. They aren’t the hands he grew up with, can lift buses and smash through concrete. In less than a year, they’re going to hold a baby and not break it. He doesn’t know how that will be possible, he just has to believe like he used to believe in Mary and the Saints.

“You okay?”

“No.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

“No.”

“Okay.”

Steve looks up at Clint. He’s levered himself up into a perfect handstand, toes pointed to the sky, back arched. He’s slowly bending back into a walk-over, feet first and he couldn’t seem less interested in Steve’s morose mood.

Steve frowns. “That’s it? Just okay?”

“What do you want me to say?” Clint asks as his feet make contact with the top of the couch, making a perfect arch out of his body. “Do you want me to tell you you need to talk? I’m not your shrink.”

“But you’re still here.”

“Being alone isn’t good for people,” Clint says, kicking back up to the handstand. “That I know, even without being a shrink. I’m here and you’re not alone. That’s all.”

“I could talk if I wanted.”

“Yup,” Clint agrees. “You could.”

Steve watches him make shapes in the air with his legs for awhile before he speaks. He’s not sure where it comes from. It just bubbles up and out of him. “About a month after we bonded, a doctor told Bucky we’d never be able to have kids.”

“Yeah?”

“I was too sick all the time and my heart, it wasn’t strong. I was only about seventeen. I could get pregnant but it’d probably kill me and any baby we were trying for. He was the Alpha, so they told him and not me. So, I remember him telling me and trying to hold me and I wouldn’t let him. I just remember going over to the window for one of my asthma cigarettes and smoking it down to the filter thinking ‘it’s not fair’ over and over. Now I’m pregnant and healthy but all I can think is how unfair this is.”

“Because he’s out in the cold.”

“Yeah.”

“Sucks.”

“Yeah.”

“But you’re doing it anyway.”

“It’s his baby.”

“That wouldn’t make a difference to everyone, Steve.”

“He’s mine,” Steve says, steel under every word. “He is still mine and the baby is ours and I’m keeping them both so help me God.”

“Mmm,” Clint hums. “You’ve got that can-do attitude I’ll give you that.”

Steve sighs and sags back into the couch. He doesn’t know what other attitude there is to have because his only other option is surrender and that is just not happening. 

“You haven’t gone looking for him again have you?”

“Not since he knocked me up, no,” Steve says, exasperated. “I’ve been distracted.”

“Well that’s probably the best thing,” Clint says sagely. He’s sitting in the lotus position now, elbows on his knees, chin in his hands. “He’ll come to you now.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re nesting. It’s his job to provide. You’re better off just sitting tight. I’m guessing you’ll get something shiny and sharp, possibly that goes boom.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Dude, tell me they taught you this in high school - bond biology, call-and-response instincts? Mated behavior in expectant parents?”

Steve stares at Clint and Clint grins. “Oh my god. Steve, man, Alphas, they just know when their mates are pregnant after awhile. Most couples are together anyway so they don’t feel it but separated Alphas usually make their way back with stuff for nesting if they can. I guess there are exceptions for like, health reasons and some people might ignore it but From Russia With Love is a blank slate. He’s going to feel it and probably follow it straight back to you, probably with some sort of present, if only because he doesn't have anything to work with but instincts. I’m betting on a super weapon, possibly a jet. Tell me if he brings you a jet.”

“You sound like a crazy person.”

“I once broke six bones in my arm and was out of commission for three months. I had nothing to do but read. Phil thought it would be funny to give me a bunch of medical books as punishment and some of them were Alpha/Omega pregnancy and birth and I’m telling you, this is a thing. It’s a thing and it is real. Scientists did tests.”

“You need to stop hanging upside down,” Steve says gently. “All that blood flow directly to your head is doing bad things to your brain, Clint.”

“Shut up this is serious. Google it if you don’t believe me or ask Bruce. He’ll know what I’m talking about. So will Nat. I made her read it too cause I thought it was cool. It’s going to happen like Rapunzel’s prince, Barnes’ll be back at the tower wall.”

“Scaling it at two in the morning.”

“Given his record and skillset, it's not unlikely.”

“You know the prince was pushed out of the tower right? He fell in the rosebushes and was blinded.”

“Yes. But he still came back.

“She had twins out of wedlock in medieval times and basically lived like a peasant until he stumbled in starving.”

"See? And the family back together. Lovers reunited. Happy ending. Ish.”

“You need help.” Steve sighs.

Clint beams at him. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”


	3. Ginger Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natasha likes ginger tea. Babies not so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i forgot i had today off! so i got baked and decided to celebrate black friday with the black widow.

“Ginger, ginger, ginger, come on, ginger. This kitchen could feed an entire platoon and there’s nothing ginger?” Steve has already been through all the cabinets, the drawers, the fridge and is now rummaging in the freezer. Modern medicine has nothing useful for upset stomachs that will work on his metabolism but Bruce thinks herbal remedies might so, ginger. But they don’t even have ginger ale.

Natasha finds him halfway inside the freezer looking, oh he doesn’t know, the frozen version of the pickled ginger stuff Tony eats with raw fish if that’s what he can find. He can feel her laughing at him. He frankly doesn’t care if it gets him what he wants.

“My tea is ginger based,” she says finally. “I’ll let you have a cup if you say please.”

“You’re the best, Nat, please.”

She pats his shoulder and leaves the room. She must keep it on her floor. “Okay, baby, don’t do anything drastic. She’ll be right back. Just give me five minutes. Five.” He mumbles to his stomach in vein hope. He microwaves water in a mug which he knows is sacrilege when it comes to tea-making but doesn’t hear it beep over the sound over the sound of puking into the kitchen trashcan. 

When he can stand again, she’s in front of him, holding out a steaming mug of ginger tea. He takes a sip and sighs. More of this, he thinks, and he’ll get through this morning sickness phase okay.

“You alright?” She asks.

“Just pregnant.”

“Oh.” She takes a step back. “That's, um, good news?”

“Yeah.”

Her lips form a twisted little expression that isn’t a frown but definitely isn’t a smile. “I don’t really do babies.”

“No?”

“No.”

“I won’t ask you to go with me when I go crib shopping then.”

“I’d have to turn you down, if you did,” she agrees still looking terribly awkward. 

It's always refreshing, facing Natasha’s special brand of honesty. “You’re allowed to not like babies.”

“And pregnancy,” she adds. “The idea of incubating like that.” She shudders a little. “Did you ever see Alien?”

“Like the Chi’tauri?”

“No. Not aliens, Alien. It’s a movie. Don’t watch it. Just…don’t.” She shudders. 

“And that’s why you don’t like babies and pregnant people?”

“No. Just a scary movie. My reasons are personal.”

“Most reasons are,” Steve concedes, taking a sip of the tea. They stand in comfortable silence while he finishes half the cup before she speaks.

“Do you have safeguards in place for when James comes here?”

Steve sighs, blowing steam across the top of his mug. “You’ve been talking to Clint.”

“Don’t be stupid. Of course I haven’t. I know how people behave, Alphas in particular. He’ll be coming and he’s not-“

“Domesticated?” Steve offers.

“Sane,” Natasha finishes. “I was going to say sane.”

Steve sets the cup on the counter and sags back against it. “Bucky’s my mate, Natasha. He has been since the thirties. I don’t think-“

Natasha cuts him off. “You two destroyed a building. You broke your wrist and suffered potentially deadly crush injuries the last time you were together and that was the outcome of a non-combative encounter. That was a win. What do you think is going to happen now?”

“I think it will be different this time.” Steve says willing himself to believe it. “There’s the baby now and that will change things. It has to.”

“Does it? Sharks eat their young, Steve.”

“He’s not a shark. He’s a man.”

“Men aren’t much better.” 

“He is.”

“Was. He was. When you knew him. It’s not like the two of you talked.” Steve flushes because no, they really didn’t. “The control substances have been leaching out of his brain and leaving behind who knows what kind of damage. When I left I was in withdrawal for months and I was never frozen, didn’t have a bond to suppress. You’ve got to take your own safety seriously because the cases of feral-reversion in traumatized Alphas happens too often in regular circumstances when you’ve got separated mates. Take James's skills and experiences into account and I think that, even if he wants to do the right thing, you and your child are both in extreme danger until he’s in custody.”

“That’s not really your place to say.”

“I’m saying it anyway. If you want any help with protection or recon, you’ve got it. That’s all I was getting at.”

“Stark security should be more than enough. I’m fine.” He narrows his eyes. “Is this easier for you to talk about than asking when I’m due?”

“His status as missing is more pressing, thats all. I don’t want you to have to worry about anything while you’re,” she waves a hand.

“It is. This is you being concerned.”

“Of course I’m concerned.” She grabs the box of tea from where it sat on the marble countertop. She hands it to him. “We have an out of control operative on the loose and you’re his gravity. I’m always concerned.”

“Okay. Thanks for the tea.”

“No problem. You can get it at Dean and DeLuca for like ten bucks a box.”

“Awesome.” He taps the box with his index finger. “I’ll remember that.”

They stand in awkward silence for awhile before Natasha says, “Have you talked to Director Coulson?”

He sighs. He doesn’t know Phil Coulson that well. He knows he’s Clint’s mate and that he’s a good man and that he died for all of them in the Battle of New York but he’s not Fury. Maybe that’s a good thing. 

“Not yet.”

“I spoke to May this morning so the Bus should still be in secure channel range.” She gives him a small smile. “Just thought I’d let you know.”

“You’re all kinds of helpful today, Natasha.”

“I’m helpful everyday,” she declares with a sharp jut of her chin. “You just don’t always appreciate it.”

If Steve tilts the universe far far far on its side, he can sort of see that. He nods in acquiescence and she hums in approval before slipping from the room leaving him alone with his thoughts and his blessedly settled stomach.


	4. Long Distance Speed Dial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve phones a friend because Sam Wilson that's why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who finished her powerpoint? Me. Guess who finished designing and filling out her website? Me. Guess who finished her first paper? Me. Guess who has the interview she needs for paper number 2? Me. 
> 
> Guess who gets a new chapter in celebration? You.
> 
> *disappears back into papers 2 and 3*

Speed-dial is a hell of a thing. All Steve has to do is push a button on his phone and suddenly, it’s dialing the number he wants. He doesn’t have to remember codes or numbers or talk to an operator or anything. It’s pretty fantastic. Granted he finds that thinking that about a lot of things in the 21st Century but phones by far make him stop and wonder over and over.

He calls Sam first because he has reached a point in his life where where Step One on any action plan he could possibly have is Talk to Sam. It used to be Talk to Bucky. For most of his life Step One was Talk to Bucky, first when they were friends and then when they were mates but replacing it with Talk to Sam is…

It’s okay. It is. It means he has a best friend again. He has a support system. He has an idea of what he’s doing. Sort of. The immediate impulse to go to Bucky is always there but that’s like the impulse to breathe. It’s involuntary. He doesn’t think that counts anymore. 

So he gives it another week of ambivalence before he pushes his speed dial one to consult with Sam on the SHIELD situation. He’s hanging with his head over the edge of his couch because being upside-down seems to do wonders for Clint’s mood. Maybe it will work on him too. 

“You have to come out about it eventually,” Sam says and Steve sighs. He already knows this. He did not call Sam the hear what he already knows, except he kind of did. “It’s just a matter of how.”

“I know. It’s just- I technically I don’t work for SHIELD anymore.”

“Technically SHIELD doesn’t exist anymore.”

“Except for that it does. The Avengers are directly aligned with the newly established SHIELD directorate.” Yeah. If Clint waltzing in and going _yo, Phil called, SHIELD’s back in business, we’re on their side, okay, awesome_ being “aligned”.

“And you are an Avenger. So technically you do report to someone in there.”

“Someone. I’m not sure who exactly. Natasha knows better. And I think Clint does too.” He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Maybe I should just go on Ellen.”

“You could do that.” Sam agrees excitedly. “She’s great about this sort of thing. She’d really help ease you into the who grand confession thing. Oh, man, and you’d get great baby presents.”

“I was kidding.”

“I wasn’t. I would DVR that episode and watch it forever.”

Steve snorts. “Yeah. Middle America would love that. The symbol of all Alphaism comes out as Omega and pregnant on a lesbian talk show. This is going to be bad enough as it is Sam.”

“You’re wrong man. Middle America would totally love that. We can pay Hill to take a picture of Fury’s face when he finds out and keep it all and a copy of the episode in Junior’s baby book. I am liking this plan, Rogers. Don’t tell me there’s another plan.”

“This isn’t a plan!”

“Please,” Sam scoffs. “You know Ms. Potts could make one phone call and you’d be one TV tomorrow and streaming live. Don’t pretend otherwise.”

“There has to be another option.”

“You could always wait for a teenager with a camera phone to get a bump picture and see what happens,” Sam suggests. 

“Don’t even joke.” He’s been on the cover of enough tabloids for one lifetime. He hates cellphone cameras. Everyone has one and while he can see how it can make post-op debriefs more comprehensive it can also make him feel like he’s operating dark just going to the grocery store to buy milk.

“Well you don’t have to decide anything today.”

“I need to pick a doctor and for that I have to go through Tony’s people or SHIELD’s or go public. I’m not going to let this sit.” 

“I guess serum does kinda complicate things for you.”

“Forget the serum. Nine to ten weeks is when I can do the first ultrasound. If this is the most normal baby ever born I’m still going to follow all the health and safety procedures.”

“So have you given up coffee yet?”

Oh bitter, synapse awakening coffee. How he mourned it’s loss. “Unfortunately. It makes me puke.”

“What doesn’t these days?”

Steve ticks them off on his fingers. “Bismati rice. Bananas. Toast. Apple sauce. Tea of every flavor. The tears of my enemies. Also, strangely, pretty much everything on the menu from that in dim sum place in Little Fuzhou Tony likes.”

“The one with the lady who hates him and hits him with the menues every time him goes in?”

“Yeah.”

Steve can hear Sam smile through the phone. “I love that place.”

“They may hate him but he pays for delivery. So I’m not starving to death.”

“Nice. Doesn’t solve your disclosure problem though.”

“SHIELD barely exists, Sam. They’re hiding in a bunker last I heard, stealing back their own tech.”

“And Fury is walking the earth like Jules Winfield.”

“Who?”

“Pulp Fiction. We are watching Pulp Fiction.” Sam clicks his tongue thoughtfully. “You know, I think Ellen might actually be your best option. You can work with Pepper and Maria Hill on what to say and how, control it, and then take your period of confinement.”

“No one calls it that anymore.”

“You’re not arguing with me.”

“That’s because I’m fairly sure you’re right.” Steve sits up and sighs. “At least I’ll get a few months to just be Steve Rogers, no Captain America strings.” He rubs his forehead. “Maybe I can actually sort some things out.”

“Speaking of sorting things out, I heard back from the VA. I got the job at the James J Peters VA Medical Center. So New York here I come.”

“Are you serious?”

“Yep. I know you don’t know the Bronx but I expect you to help me scope out apartments anyway. I start in two weeks.”

“That’s it then. I’ll wait for you to move and then do the big reveal.”

“Steve.”

“It's not procrastinating. It’s waiting for a proper support network. You’re a counselor. You taught me this.”

Sam sighs in his ear. “Talk to Pepper and Hill before then though.”

“I will.”

“And eat.”

“I will.”

“And text me a picture of your ultrasound.”

“I will, Alpha.”

“And never call me that again. Ugh. I love you man, but not like that.”

Steve hangs up laughing. Yes he still feels vaguely nauseous all the time but damn if he doesn’t feel better too.


	5. Not an Acceptable Variable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a break in at Avengers Towers that goes unreported.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Paper - submitted. New webpage - built. Voice overs - formatted and posted to the website. Quiz - taken. Peer assessments - submitted. 
> 
> Whats that mean for you? CELEBRATORY NEW CHAPTER MOFOS!
> 
> Warning - ABO-centric light D/s. I think you can infer what that means for this chapter :D

Yoga with Clint is actually relaxing. That may have something to do with the fact that Bruce has co-opted it with his own meditative breathing techniques. The whole thing is about as far out of his wheel house as its possible to be. He’s a soldier. He’s used to lifting weights, running laps and punching bangs. Bending and stretching and counting inhales and exhales were not in the workout regimen when he was training. 

He liked it though. It was calming. For his bubbling energy, Clint had a well of inner stillness. The stillness was something every sniper he’d ever met had possessed, even Bucky. Channeled through slow stretches the stillness seemed gentle and warm instead of cold and deadly. Seeing that quality through the filter of the yoga they did together was nothing short of beautiful.

His own efforts were clumsy and awkward mimics of pre-work-out stretches. He had decent balance but he nearly fell over the first time he tried to do the tree pose every single time due to his shifted center of gravity. That’s not stopping him from going through all of them now. The extended cat pose he’s currently in feels heaven on his back but has to look ridiculous. He’s on his hands and knees with one arm and one leg extended when he hears the soft sound on carpet.

Steve looks up and up and up to see his mate standing over him in jeans and a black hoodie with the hood up over a plain black ball cap. He’s frowning and his hair hangs around his face in dirty strands. 

He looks confused. He looks beautiful. His expression is dark and clouded. He doesn’t need to be in uniform to be obviously the Winter Soldier.

“Hello,” Steve says, sitting back on his heels, hands resting palm up on his thighs. It's the least aggressive position he can think of without rolling over and straight up presenting himself and he won’t do that. Not when he can’t see anything of Bucky in this man’s eyes. “I was expecting you.”

He stares at Steve without blinking. “You’re pregnant.”

Okay. No pleasantries then. “Yes.”

“That’s… not an acceptable variable.”

Steve doesn’t know what to say to that. So he says nothing. He just waits.

“You smell like mine. You both smell like mine.”

“We are.”

He watches the Winter Soldier rub his head and frown. “I had orders. Things were clear. Then you— ” His frown deepens. “Mission parameters were to locate and eliminate. You were my mission. Things were clear.”

“I’m your mate.” Steve swallows hard. His body is reacting on its own now, around it’s Alpha for the first time since conception. He can feel his pulse rate slowing, his breathing evening. His bond gland is triggered after so long without his Alpha and now is brain is flooding with dopamine. He knows that he can’t let this happen. He can’t get bond-high and stupid now. It’s too important. “We belong to each other. We take care of each other. That’s our mission.”

“I cannot have a mate,” he says and that’s new. “I can’t- I’m not-“ He shook his head. “None of this makes any sense.”

Steve smiles ruefully. “Yeah, I’ll give you that one.”

“I can feel you.” The Winter Soldier drops to a crouch and touches Steve’s left cheekbone with careful human fingertips. “Now. Physically. I couldn’t before. Why?”

“Contact restoration of our degraded bond? The pregnancy? I don’t know, Buck. I’m not a Dynamic specialist.”

He flinches at the name and pulls his hand back. Steve mentally kicks himself. Too much too fast. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t but it felt too good. He feels too good. 

“I don’t know what you want. I’m not James Buchanan Barnes.”

You are, Steve thinks, and you were in that HYDRA base when you mouthed my jaw and down my neck to reopen the bond-bite and whispered you missed me. You're still in there. Come out. Come back. 

He closes his eyes and says, “Yes you are. Just because you can’t remember, doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

The Winter Soldier looks away and out the window which is firmly closed. They’re more than eighty stories up. Steve doesn’t want to think about how he got in past security and JARVIS. He just wants to be here, now, with his mate.

“I remember a little.”

Steve’s breath catches. “Do you?”

“A few things,” he says softly. “Lifting boxes and the smell of salt water. A fight in an alley. Your hip bones in my hands. Cigarettes on a fire escape. The taste of your slick on my tongue. I know could find your smell anywhere on earth.” The Winter Soldier shakes his head with eyes that hold nearly a century of sadness. “That’s not a person.”

“It’s something.”

“It’s not enough.”

“It’s a start. Please.” Steve lifts his hand and covers the one on his cheek. “Stay.” He doesn’t say he can’t but he doesn’t have to. Steve can see it written all over his face. He’s going and he’s going soon. He tries something else. “Come back.”

“That’s a bad idea.”

“No it’s not,” Steve says. He says it. He’s not begging.

Silence spins out between them like a long thread unspooled. They don’t let go of each other. Steve can can feel the blood moving under his skin. 

“I have to go.”

“Come back,” Steve repeats. “You don’t have to remember anything. Just come back to me.”

No promises are made. The Winter Soldier simply studies his face and breathes in their combined scent. It gives Steve more hope than it should.

Then he’s pulling away. He’s disappearing again, like the ghost everyone claims he is. It’s impossible but it happens right before Steve’s eyes. He wasn’t trained in stealth so he doesn’t know how the Winter Soldier does it but one moment he’s there and the next he’s gone. 

Steve is still bond-high but he knows without a bite or a fuck it won’t last more than a few more minutes. He closes his eyes and savors the sensation. He remembers when he felt this four times a year for a week before and after his heat. He remembers sharing it with Bucky, laughing and playing in their flop of an apartment. So he coasts on the feeling until his brain returns to normal and wonders what the hell he’s supposed to do next.


	6. Simple Suggestions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve finds at his own peril that Maria Hill can be full of helpful suggestions and valuable knowledge. Key world being "can".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Paper #2 - DONE! Only one paper left! We know what that means.
> 
> CELEBRATORY FIC POST! 
> 
> Enjoy.

Maria Hill looks at him like he’s grown a third head. Steve wonders when in the course of his explanation of his action plan the second one grew in. “That is a terrible idea,” She says, hands folded on the desk in her office. “Terrible. I thought the serum raised your intelligence.”

Steve blinks at her. “Excuse me?”

“You cannot just go on TV and announce to the world that you’re going to have a baby,” She declares all Alpha authority. “It’s like painting a big Looney-Tunes bullseye on your stomach that flashes neon lights. That is how big a target you will be making yourself.”

“You say that like it won’t happen anyway.”

“Actions can be taken. Stark has cloaking technology that can hide any physical changes. Paper work is easy to manipulate. I’ll need to talk to Pepper about NDAs for an OOBGYN.” She’s pulled out a StarkTablet and is typing away.

“I think you’re overreacting a little.” Steve boggles. “I mean, this is extreme. I’m not the first military omega to have a baby.” Granted, he only found out about that since he came back. Omegas on the front lines only became common during the Vietnam conflict but its not unheard of. Steve doesn’t think this is unreasonable.

“You are the first and only Captain America,” Hill’s mouth barely moves from its grim line when she speaks. “Forget the fact that you’re a symbol. You’re possibly the most valuable military asset this country, possibly this planet has. If HYDRA or any other hostile finds out your vulnerability, it will be used against you.”

Steve opens his mouth to argue with her. She stares him down bring Steve grinding to a halt. She has valid points and he needs to figure out how to get around to that.

“You can’t expect me to live like that.”

“I’m not your commanding officer, Rogers. I don’t expect anything. I’m telling you from a security standpoint what you’re getting yourself into.”

“Getting myself into?” he repeats. “I’m going to be a parent, Hill. I want to be a parent. I want this. I’m happy about this.”

She lifts an eyebrow. “You certainly look happy,” she deadpans. “Rogers, you came to me, not the other way around.”

“Because I thought you would help me.”

“This is me helping you, helping you both.”

“No offense, Ms. Hill, but thats a load of crap. It’s just more SHIELD subterfuge tactics. The whole point was transparency.”

“You don’t like your personal life invaded do you? Because when the twenty-four-hour news channels get a hold of the headline Captain America: Omega and Pregnant, what little private life you have will go public whether you want it to or not.” She waves a hand through the air around them. “Don’t believe me, ask Stark about wearing sunglasses just to walk from the door of a restaurant to valet because of all the flashbulbs going off.” Her smile is unkind though not directed at him so much as the world at large. “You can join him in that paparazzi scrum if thats what you want. I won’t pretend I can stop you.”

Steve plants his elbows on his knees and drops his forehead in his palms. “I just can’t live that way.”

Hill sets the tablet down. “Then don’t.”

“I still need help,” he says into his hands. “Help that doesn’t involve cloaking devices.”

Hill rubs her temples. “I should be able to find a doctor for you. Former SHIELD consultant, reliable and definitely can be trusted not to disclose to the public. If you’re not interested in my security protocols,” she sighs, “I think you should talk to Pepper about everything else.”

It’s something. He didn’t have a doctor when he walked into this office and now he did. Okay, that’s progress. “That sounds great,” he says and he means it.

She picks the tablet back up. Her narrow fingers fly across the touch screen. Steve still hasn’t really figured out how those things work. He’s happier with a laptop. The keys are close enough to a typewriter that he can get things accomplished. Hill seems to have no such problems. She looks up again with squinting eyes. “You’re how many weeks?” 

“Eight, almost nine.”

“Hm.” She drops her eyes back to the touchscreen. “Okay. I’ll have a number for you by the end of the day tomorrow at the latest, hopefully sooner. Expect an email addressed to a Grant Buchanan.”

She stops and scribbles the email Grant1_8Buchanan@gmail.com and password on a piece of paper on a post-it note. She pulls it from the pad and hands it to him. The password is just a string of hexadecimal numbers and letters that are pure gibberish. Steve is slightly terrified of her. 

The paper is bright pink and sticky. He can’t stop staring at it. “Okay.” 

“That’s your public email for all baby related things from here on in. Don’t use any email you’ve used in the past for anything related to your child under any circumstances and do not discuss any abnormalities that could remotely be related to the super soldier serum in cyber form period. Change your password every two weeks and it should remain fairly secure. Barring any unforeseen hiccups, you’ll be able to be seen by the doctor before the end of the week.”

Steve feels a little breathless. He is just not spy material, thats all there is to it. He wants a straightforward battle any day over things like this. Still, it’s a place to start. “Thank you.”

“And for what it’s worth, congratulations, Captain.”

He smiles at her. “Thanks.” 

He rises from his chair and makes to go but she clears her throat. “Oh, and Captain.” He stops and turns to her, hand on the door. “You should also know that Avengers Tower has installed motion sensors in the windows since your visitor this week.”

That has Steve gaping. “You know about that?”

“Romanoff saw fit to inform me and I took the liberty of installing some precautions. You’re not the only valuable assent who lives in this building.”

He narrows his eyes at her. “And how did Natasha find out Bucky was in my apartment.”

Hill shrugs. “I honestly have no idea. She’s the best agent SHIELD ever saw, bar none. I wouldn’t put anything past her. I just thought it was fair to let you to know that we knew. So long as he remains a non-combatant presence on premises, we’ll maintain a state of…detente as it were.”

Steve’s done enough research on the Cold War since Bucky resurfaced to get that reference. He doesn’t think its a good joke. “Is that supposed to be funny?”

“More of a play on words, though I’m not known for my humor. However, you’ll find it’s apt.”

“And I’m supposed to thank you for that?”

“Yes,” Hill says, coming to her feet. “You are because the other options are capture or kill orders. I’m trusting you. Fury’s trusting you.” She plants her hands on her desk and leans forward. “Barnes is unhinged and unstable with a head full of HYDRA intel and a body that’s second only to yours in terms of walking weaponry. He’s possibly the most dangerous free agent on earth. The wise thing to do would be a double tap to the skull and I think you know that, particularly with what Coulson is finding with current HYDRA brainwashing techniques.”

“They’re not doing memory wipes,” Steve protests because he’s seen the reports Coulson’s been sending back to Clint. It’s ugly but it’s relatively tame. It’s something for them to work with, a place to start. Triggger words, visual stimulus, but the sense of self in the new crop seems to remain whole. “It’s not the same.” Steve knows its not the same. 

“No it’s not. And frankly, there’s an argument to be made that putting Barnes down would be a mercy.”

“If your people touch him I will burn what’s left of SHIELD to the ground.” He meets her gaze full on as he makes his promise. “I think you know that.”

“We’re aware. We’re also aware of the potential for mate bonds as restoratives in cases of cognitive damage. Studies since you were frozen have shown that with training and supervision, mates can use their bonds to assist in the stabilization of mentally ill partners and in memory retrieval of dementia and Alzheimer's patients. It’s not conjecture. It’s proven science and it’s what we’re counting on here with Barnes.”

Steve leaned back against the door. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He wonders how long these p plans have been in effect. “You basically think I’m going to be his antidote.”

“It’s not that simple but, yes. Banner thinks the fact that you’re bred is actually going to help that what with elevated bond intensity and hormonal states so.” She exhales and drops her head. She inhales long and slow before she lifts her head and meets his gaze, level and blank as stone. “So we’re going to give you a shot to bring him in from the cold. We haven’t had an opportunity like this since Barton brought in Romanoff and unlike with the Widow, we have you and his child as built in insurance. It’s an incalculable win, one that we are in desperate need of. I cannot stress that enough Rogers. We need this. They’re stalking our people. We can’t afford to lose him when HYDRA takes more of our former agents every day.”

“How sweet.” Steve snorts.

“I’m sorry, were you under the delusion that SHIELD stood for Sunshine Hugs Intimacy Emotions Love and Dancing? It doesn’t.”

“Are you under the delusion that SHIELD still has any say over my life?” Steve snaps. “Because I’m confident that if it comes down to it, Natasha and Clint can get me in the wind and while you won’t be able to find me, my mate always will.”

“That’s inadvisable.”

“You keep saying that.” He says. “I don’t think I care anymore. I’ve given enough. Haven’t I? I have given up my body and my blood and my generation and everyone and everything I love. I should get to have this, be selfish just once.”

“You could,” Hill agrees. “Or could be Captain fucking America and be the man we all wish we could be.”

Steve clenches his fists and glared at her. “I really don’t like you.”

“That’s all right. You don’t have to.”


	7. Modern Medical Technology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve meets the doctor Maria's arranged for him and learns about the wonders of modern omega obgyn standard procedures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LAST DAY OF CLASSES HAS COME AND GONE! \O/ ENJOY YOUR CELEBRATORY CHAPTER! (after the 10th these will just be regular chapters again lol)

Tony of all people insists on joining him at the first doctor appointment. It’s in the medical wing of his building so it’s not like there’s much Steve can do to protest it. “And I can be the supportive guy.” Tony declares. “Plus, two super soldier parents, all irradiated, juiced up, iced up, and thawed. It could be a giant spider in there or something.”

Steve lifts an eyebrow. “Giant spider?”

“Me and spiders lately. I don’t know. I keep running into the spider-brat every time I go on patrol. Wouldn’t be a big deal, except he keeps not letting me draw blood for Bruce or explaining how his webbing or sticking works. I’m fixated.”

“On Spider-Man?”

Tony nods vehemently and shoulders them into a left turn. “I can’t figure out if his powers are biological or mechanical. The samples I’ve got of his webbing are totally biodegradable but does his body eject it or did he make something for the projectiles? The kid’s fascinating. He’s also been following you.”

Steve groans and puts his hand on his forehead. “Oh God, are you serious?”

“Nothing big, just some surveillance shots of him that happen to feature civilian you. I’m having JARVIS make you a scrapbook. Supermommy and baby, nine weeks, featuring giant wall-crawler. The picture is surrounded by glitter.” He holds up his hands to illustrate. “It’s tasteful.” 

“I am never letting you near construction paper or glue. I feel like it’s a disaster waiting to happen.”He declares and shakes his head. He weeps for the future. He’s bringing his child into a world where he or she is going to be around Tony Stark on a regular basis. Maybe this whole thing is a bad idea. 

“Likely true,” Tony concedes. “Then what isn’t with me?” he points out.

“Wonderful. Just wonderful.”

Tony clasps him on the shoulder. “Don’t sweat it Cap. He seems to be a fan.” Tony’s grin is audible. “But everyone is.”

“I’m glad you think this is funny.”

“I think it's cute. I mean, of everything that’s going on out here and out there- Have you met him?” Steve looks up at Tony and shakes his head. “Oh, this kid. I swear, he can’t be more than seventeen under that hood, eighteen tops, and he has these great come backs. I like the think of him as a young me.”

“That’s not a good thing.”

“Isn’t it?”

“You’re trying to distract me now,” Steve says as he realizes that they’ve arrived at the medical room number Hill had given him. 

“It work?”

“I, yeah. I guess it did.” They push their way inside to find a handsome, Pakistani omega man of middle age in a white coat is waiting for them. He’s got his hands laced together over a clipboard and nearly drops it when he sees the two of them. 

“Hello. I’m Dr Javed and oh. Former Director Hill told me this had to be secure but I didn’t realize it was you two that are-“ He swallows and makes a wavy hand gesture that Steve thinks is supposed to mean "together". Steve cannot control the look of horror that creeps across his face and out of the side of his eye he sees that Tony can’t either. 

“No. Oh no. Not that. No. I’m just here for moral support,” Tony says, lifting his hands and taking a large step to the left and away from Steve. “I’m working on my doula certification.”

Steve rolls his eyes at him as the man does, in fact, drop his clipboard.

Dr. Javed scrambles to pick up his clipboard then holds out a hand. Steve shakes it. He gives the doctor what he hopes is his USO smile. “I’m guessing you weren’t briefed?”

“I was told there was a level nine security medical situation that needed my specialization for one of the Avengers Initiative. I was told that there was an expectant omega mother and compromising circumstances.”

“That would be me,” Steve says and shivers a little. “On all counts.”

“Oh well. Unexpected but congratulations. Don’t worry. We’re still in early days, things should be straight forward for you.”

“And the super soldier serum?” Tony asks.

Dr Javed scratches his neck with the clipboard. “Yes. Um, we have someone, Dr. Straiten, who is a specialist in irregular biology. The plan at the moment is to have him study any blood work we take. He’s quite good. He was part of the TAHITI team and considering the state of the current Director-“

Alarm bells go off in Steve’s brain like a klaxon. “Absolutely not.” 

Tony cuts him off even though its in agreement “If you think we’re letting one of those mad scientists near mini-Cap you’re out of your mind. In fact, if you’re part of that group, you can see yourself out of my building. Or better yet, you can wait here until Security throws you out of my building.”

Dr. Javed holds his clipboard up in defense. His knuckles are going white. “No, please, listen. I don’t know what you’ve been told but I’m an OOBGYN attending at Mt. Sinai. I’m not and never have been a member of SHIELD. What I am is a multiple PhD in Omega Reproductive Studies and Dynamic Neurological Studies from Harvard and an MD from Johns Hopkins where I did my fellowship in Omega obstetrics specializing in neonatal genetics. Yes, I’m a scientist and a doctor. Yes, I consulted with SHIELD on several Dynamics specific incidents when they were still in operation which is how I know former Director Hill.”

“And TAHITI?” Steve demands. Clint hasn’t said much about it but Coulson sent him…videos, horrible tortured videos containing specifics of the project. He doesn’t know much but what he does know is enough to scare him. 

“Less than fifteen percent of population are betas,” Dr. Javed says clutching his clipboard to his chest like that little piece of wood could protect him from the combined wrath of Captain American and Iron Man. “It shouldn’t be a surprise that all TAHITI subjects were Alphas or Omegas. With my neuro specialization, I was consulted. I was ignored, on multiple occasions, but I was consulted.”

“Neuro?” That has Steve’s attention. He thinks that Hill picked this guy with that in mind. She would do something like that.

“Of course. Dynamic interaction isn’t just Tab A in Slot B. It’s pheromones causing complex chemical reactions in the brain. Heat and rut alone are their own neurological field of study. Never mind bond-triggers and bond-highs and mate-tracking. It’s intensely complicated and quite beautiful when you get down to the balance of the biochemical exchange of it actually.” Dr. Javed has that dreamy tone that Steve recognizes from Bruce and Tony both. It’s the Science Space Voice that comes from losing oneself in in one's own genius. So maybe, just maybe, this guy knows what he’s talking about.

“Okay. We’re still not including this Straiten guy,” Steve declares because he even if Dr. Javed is the best, he still doesn't want the mastermind of TAHITI near is baby.

Dr. Javed hugs his clipboard tight. “Fine with me. You will need to find a doctor you can trust with blood work. It can’t be left undone.”

“Bruce can do it,” Tony says. “No one knows super blood better than he does.”

“Then lets get started with the rest of it. Captain Rogers, if you’d take of your clothes, put on the gown, and hop up on the table for me please? Can I have your height, weight, etcetera while you do so?” Dr. Javed turns to Tony. He waves that ever-present clipboard at him. “You can go now, Mr. Stark.” 

“I’ll go when he says go.”

Steve smiles a little as he pulls his shirt off over his head. There’s a hospital gown with an open back that reminds him sharply of Dr. Erskine and the days before the official implementation of Project Rebirth. There had been so many tests and exams that he’d practically lived in gowns like these. 

Only Erskine had ever conducted OOBGYN exams on him though. Secrecy was too important. Omegas and beta women were only provisionally allowed combat positions on the front lines. No country on earth drafted Omegas, male or female. The idea of the walking ideal of This Man’s Army being an Omega was something Phillips and his senator friends couldn’t abide. The fact that it was necessary to the success of the project didn’t change that. 

Erskine’s hands had been able to wrap all the way around his thin thighs and meet at the fingertips. His hands were always warm and his voice was gentle but never patronizing. He never treated Steve like anything less than a soldier when he was in the stirrups. His chitchat was reminiscence about his lost family, his own Alpha wife and their two Alpha children, one boy and one girl. “I was the odd Omega out,” he chuckled and patted Steve knee. “I barely miss the feeling on base, all these knot heads around.”

Dr. Erskine had just finished a check up that involved a horrible, cold speculum when Steve finally go the nerve up to ask, “Does it matter if I have a mate?”

Erskine had looked at him steadily. “It does if you’re pregnant.”

Steve choked out a laugh that was half a sob. “No. We can’t. I can’t.”

“Based on all my tests that’s frankly not true. Ovaries, fallopian tubes, uterus, vaginal canal, all in working order, testing positive for fertile eggs. Don’t lie to me, Steve.”

“My heart,” Steve said. “The doctors said the strain would kill me.”

“Ah. So you shouldn’t, not can’t. You and your mate have been careful.” Steve nods and Erskine had hummed in approval. “That’s good. Then no, I don’t see any complication. In fact it’s possible that the serum may allow you to have children one day, when the war is over.”

“I thought sterility was one of the possible side affects.”

Erskine rolled his eyes. “Yes, but so is death. Let's not count our chickens yet. They’re not hatched. For now everything is going well and when your lungs are clear and your heart is strong, you and your mate will have nothing standing between you and as many children as your home can hold.”

Steve had grinned at him and Erskine had grinned back. If Steve hadn’t been sure before that moment, he was then. He remembers wishing this was the kind of thing he could put into a letter to Bucky. They always wanted kids. 

He’s so lost in his own head that he’d basically meditated himself past all the invasive stuff. Tony is in one of the uncomfortable chairs near the head of the table and pulls out his phone and a tiny stylus the size of a toothpick. He was focused on it while Dr. Javed took his blood pressure and does things with the “wand ultrasound” that Steve hasn’t done with toys. Now though, Tony is poking his shoulder.

“Capsicle look. This, they did not have in your day.” He says pointing to what looks like a small LCD display on a wheeled cart that the uncomfortable invasion is attached to. It’s all grainy black and white but Tony is gripping his shoulder like they’re about to face another space whale.

“What?”

“Just look.”

On the screen is the fuzzy image of a hollow curved empty space and a small white object that Dr. Javed points at beaming. “And there it is. Say hi, Mom.”

Steve blinks then blinks again. “That’s the baby?”

“Yeah. This far along, there hasn’t been much development but we’re going to listen to the heartbeat in a minute.”

“You can do that?”

Dr. Javed nods and beams even brighter. He is clearly enjoying this part of his job. “Yep. It’s going to be a fast sound. You ready?”

“No,” Steve laughs, feeling choked. “He should be here. Tony, this isn’t right. Bucky, he should be here.”

“I know, kid.” Tony's hand squeezes on his shoulder and Steve is reminded that Tony is a solid twenty years older than he is for the first time in ages. “JARVIS is recording everything for when we get him back though. He won’t really have missed it. I took care of it.”

It’s not the same. They both know it. It’s a bandaid over the bullet wound in Steve’s heart. It helps anyway. Steve nods at Dr. Javed and then the room is filled with the sound of a miracle. The heartbeat is a rapid whooshing noise that makes Steve’s own heart skip a beat.

“Oh.” Steve breathes, stunned.

“Yeah,” Dr. Javed agrees, beaming.

Behind him, Tony’s camera phone goes off with a flash.


	8. At Gun Point

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sam and Steve have a visitor on movie night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *delirious laughter* Everything is done and submitted! So enjoy a celebratory chapter featuring himself, Mr. James Buchanan Barnes.

Sam’s apartment is four city blocks from the VA where he works, barely a substantial walk. It’s a top floor apartment, a penthouse if it were in Tony’s price range with a well-maintained elevator, not a simple pre-war walkup. It’s got real hardwood floors. It’s got floor to ceiling windows. It’s got no wall paper to strip, just plain white walls the building manager says Sam can paint any way he wants “except black, that never comes off.” 

Steve wants to cry over how great a place it is. He is ridiculously proud of himself for finding it. He didn’t even get a realtor. Steve found it within Sam’s price range all by himself using nothing but the internet and his cellphone.

He’s worked on nothing else for the last month, because, well, he’s not actually a realtor is he? Sam’s lived in his guest room since he come to New York. Maybe, maybe Steve put off showing him this place, this holy grail of rent-controlled apartments, so that he wouldn’t be alone for a little longer. 

He blames his pregnancy hormones for that act of sentimental selfishness. Using hormones as an excuse is literally the only upside he’s got from his pregnancy right now. So far he’s got all the unfun items like the nausea and the steady swell of his feet and ankles and the exhaustion that not even the serum can compensate for and the way his pecs suddenly hurt all the damn time (he goes without a shirt whenever he can just to avoid painful contact) without the good stuff. He always wanted those good things, being able to feel his baby or having his mate there to constantly scent him or press his face into Steve’s belly. 

For now, he will take The Victory of Sam’s New Apartment for the triumph that it is. Plus, there is dim sum. He is living on dim sum and lo mien lately and Sam had it delivered. It's food that stays down and tastes good. Food that meets those criteria is a list that is shorter than his arm. 

Now they’re sharing the Chinese and enjoying the 40” plasma screen Sam has set up in his generous living room. Sam is on the couch scraping at a carton of mushu chicken and Steve is on the floor, slurping noodles out of the box, Sam’s knee digging into his shoulder. It’s comfortable and they’re watching Pulp Fiction because “there are some basics of modern life I just can’t explain to you, Rogers.”

So far Steve likes it. The dialogue is fast and vulgar, the violence is intense yet somehow cartoonish and it makes absolutely no apologies. He’s fascinated by the diner, with all those waiters and waitresses dressed as matinee idols and singers. He thinks that the drug dealer reminds him of Tony and he likes Vince Vega, he reminds Steve of Col. Phillips, just a little - if Phillips had been a drug-addled, foul-mouthed gangster. Steve’s learned a lot about suspension of disbelief since walking up in the 21st century. 

Mia Wallace wakes up from her overdose when Steve hears it, the little click of a gun cocking. He looks up and back at Sam and sees the Winter Soldier standing behind him, gun pressed to the back of his skull.

“Take your hand out of your pocket,” the Winter Soldier says to Sam. “I will kill you.” There’s no emotion in this warning, just statement of fact. He says it like one would say “some weather out there huh?”

“My hands are right here,” Sam says, placing them on each of his knees. “See? Unarmed.”

“You’ve got a gun on you and two more between here and the kitchen.” His eyes cut to Steve. “I can’t see you at his feet.”

“Okay,” Steve says but he doesn’t move. It makes bright blue eyes flash at him in anger

“What are you doing at his feet?” the Winter Soldier snarls, his features contorting. The Winter Soldier doesn’t get angry. He’s Bucky in his fury, who always let Steve start shit but was bloodthirsty enough to enjoy finishing it. 

He’s so beautiful with light back behind his eyes that it takes Steve a minute to realize what hell he’s talking about. Then he realizes and says, “Just sitting. It’s okay.”He gets to his feet slowly then walks around the couch before dropping to sit beside Bucky, at his feet. He presses his forehead against Bucky’s knees, jarring on the hardwood but a delicious fulfillment of an animal instinct in his Omega blood that he has managed to keep quiet until now, and finally bows his head. “Do you see the difference, Alpha?” he asks Bucky’s dirty jeans.

Metal fingers bury themselves in his hair. He twists a little, possessive, making Steve whine. His brain and heart have synced together and are both screaming _My Alpha_ at him in time to their pulsing beat. The combination of submission and claiming gestures after long draught is enough to trigger the bond-high in Steve. He’s already a little lightheaded just from relief but it builds into another kind of pleasure, chemical and almost excessive.

Bucky stares down at him. “You’re mine.”

“Yes.”

“You’re my mate.”

“Yes,” Steve groans.

“Thats our child.”

“Bucky,” he whispers. 

His wrist twists harder. It hurts. Steve’s eyes water at the pain and then flood when Bucky, not the Winter Soldier, says hesitantly, “Yes.” He lets go of Steve’s hair and strokes through it, smoothing it back and off his face. 

“You been eating?” Steve asks, looking up at him. “You look thin.”

“That's what you ask him?” Sam demands, clearly pissed. “Not ‘put down the gun’ but ‘are you eating’? Come on Steve.”

“He’s not going to put the gun down.”

“No,” Bucky agrees.

“Well all right then.” Sam sighs. “Then I guess…as you were, kids.”

Steve laughs. “Thanks for that.” 

“I eat,” Bucky says softly. “I sleep too.”

“You don’t look it.”

“I know.”

“Bucky, tell me you’re staying this time.”

His silence is an answer. Steve winces but leans into Bucky’s touch anyway. Bond-high is not an automatic response nor is it an irresistible force. It’s not a fog he can’t see through. He can see fine. He just wants to be blind. That’s all. He’s a better man than he is an Omega because he pushes past the crushed feeling in his chest and does not cry when he realizes that once again, Bucky isn’t staying.

“What do you remember now?”

“Mating you,” Bucky whispers. “There were fireworks. We’d spent the day out in the crowds but that night we were on the roof and it was just you and me and this pathetic little white cake.”

That makes Steve smile. He can still remember how it tasted. “I was allergic to chocolate.”

“You were allergic to everything,” Bucky agrees. Yes, Bucky. So very Bucky. “We had just the one candle and you blew it out and then there were fireworks. You sat between my legs with your back against my chest and I felt you breathing.” There’s a quiet moment where all three do nothing but that. Breathe. “I had you on the roof, against the door. You were so wet. For me.”

“Yes,” Steve pants and he hates that he’s getting wet now, on his knees with Sam right here but Bucky. Bucky is here and his hormones have been making him horny anyway and its his _Alpha_.

“You were so small. I just picked you up. I remember.” His voice trails off for a moment. “I remember your shirt was on but open and your legs were around my waist. I begged for you.”

“TMI,” Sam mutters. 

Steve ignores him. This is a delicate situation. He won’t let anything happen to his friend but he can’t let this spell break either. So he nods in agreement and says “Twice.”

To this day, Steve could still hear Bucky’s fervent pleading, feel it against his skin. Bucky had fucked up into him, pushing his back into the weathered wooden door. He’d mouthed over the bonding gland as he spoke and Steve’s eyes had watered with sensation overload.“ _Steve, God, please be mine,”_ he’d practically sobbed. _“Love you so damn much.”_

 _“Jesus Christ, Bucky,”_ Steve had gasped. The pleasure had been so distracting but not so much that the words hadn’t hit him like a punch. 

_“You gotta know. Don’t you know? I want to mate you. Let me make you mine. Please.”_

Of course he said yes. He’d said yes and Bucky had broken the skin with his teeth, the first half of a mate bond flaring to life. Bucky had pulled Steve’s head down with just the right mix of force and care to return the gesture. The high had carried them both over the edge into devastating orgasm as the fireworks lit their faces in blue and red and purple, Bucky’s knot locked tight inside Steve’s body. 

Bucky looks down at him now with pupils blown so that the blue of his eyes look like the rim of an eclipse. “I bit you and your blood tasted like frosting and home.”

“Yours was like cigarettes and a good night's sleep,” Steve agreed.

“Why didn’t we get married?” He asks, frowning just a bit. He looks a bit like a confused puppy with his cocked head and his long shaggy hair. It’s incongruous to the gun he has held to Sam’s head. 

“We never had the money.” Steve laughs, shaking his head. “The money for a marriage license just seemed so pointless compared to getting to eat meat with our beans or potatoes on a given week.”

“And we didn’t have children.”

“Not then,” Steve agrees. “We will though. It's been eleven weeks.” He leans in against Bucky’s leg and reminds him, just in case they took the information from him, “That means there’s about seven months left. Maybe six because of the serum.”

“Six months.” Bucky repeats. “Okay. Six months then.”

“What?”

Bucky fists his hand in Steve’s hair again. This time it is gentle and pulls him to stand. His right hand is still holding the gun on Sam, the barrel pressed against dark skin. When Steve is standing he pulls him in with his left hand by the back of the neck and kisses him. 

Their meeting is all frantic tongue and clicking teeth. It is bond and mate and lover and best friend and twenty years of knowing and seventy years of missing and _mineminemine_. It is a kiss like the one in the destroyed base that triggered his heat. Steve could live here forever, keep Bucky safe in his mouth from the chaos of his own mind and the tentacles of HYDRA.

When they break for air, Bucky is gone and the Winter Soldier says, “Six months.” 

“What about it?”

He says, “I can work within those parameters.”

Steve actually stops breathing. Parameters. A mission. A mission that ends with six months and Steve. It’s what he’s wanted for months but didn’t even dare to hope for. 

“All right.”

“All right,” Sam agrees. “Can you stop pointing a gun at me now?” 

The Winter Soldier lowers the gun which actually makes Steve a little sad. He feels guilty on Sam’s behalf but it means that the Winter Soldier is leaving. He wouldn’t drop his guard otherwise. 

“You can come to me any time,” Steve says, pressing his face into the Winter Soldier’s shoulder. His Alpha’s bonding gland is hidden by the hoodie is still emitting enough scent that Steve feels powerless to resist. 

“Um, Steve I don’t think-“

“Sam,” Steve whispers. “Don’t.” The Winter Soldier is just staring at Steve with an endless gaze. 

“It’s a risk.”

“It’s a calculated risk. One I don’t think you’re that worried about.”

Bucky flickers in the Winter Soldiers eyes for a moment and he looks so desperate. No, Steve realizes. He looks homesick. He recognizes the expressions from the front. Bucky wants to come home. The Winter Soldier is still too paranoid and tired and juiced up and brainwashed to let him. Yet. 

Six months. Steve can handle that. “Or don’t. Either way, I’ll always be here for you.” It’s been true for just shy of a century. Why would that change now?

The Winter Soldier nods at him and makes his way to one of Sam’s windows. It’s open and Steve hadn’t noticed. So much for that enhanced situational awareness he’s supposed to have now. The Winter Soldier moves backwards, facing them, gun cocked but pointed at the floor. He stops at the window and looks at Sam. “Apologies for the inconvenience, Wilson.”

Steve’s head snaps to Sam who looks shocked for all of half a second before collecting himself and saying sharply, “Don’t mention it. Or do it again. I’m on Steve’s side.”

The Winter Soldier nods again. “I’m starting to see that. Good.” He leans out the window then drops through it and out of sight. Steve’s heart clenches because that’s a fifteen story fall. He’s so tired of Bucky falling. 

When he’s gone Sam sags visibly into the couch. “Holy shit that guy needs a bell. And a hell of a lot of Prozac.”

Steve laughs, swaying a little on his feet as he feels the bond-high beginning to dissipate. He may throw up. He’s not sure. Please baby, he thinks, don’t make me throw up. “Thank you,” he says, “for not, I don’t know, doing about a million things you could’ve done when he broke in here.”

“Your baby daddy gets one pass man,” Sam says. He holds up his index finger. “One. I’m not sitting through that shit again. That ain’t me.”

“I know.”

“It’s because I love you like a brother that I did it at all.”

“I know.”

“You know Samuel is a strong name.”

“It is.”

“And Samantha is a great name for a girl.”

“Also true,” Steve agrees. “But unless something drastic happens and he’s back and really with it by the birth, I’m naming it after Bucky either way.”

“James is a good name too,” Sam grumbles.

“Or Jamie, if its a girl,” Steve says, “But Sam is a good middle name.”

“I think so too.” Sam picks the remote up and clicks back a few scenes on the screen. Steve had forgotten the movie was even playing. “Now sit down before you fall down and finish this movie. I’m trying to be responsible for your cultural education here.”

Steve sits on the couch next to Sam. He sighs. “Sorry.”

“Don’t even.”

“Okay,” Steve says and shoves his guilt down since he can’t get rid of it. He smiles at his friend. When Sam smiles back Steve wishes, not for the first time, that Sam is the kind of man he could’ve fallen in love with, that his heart wasn’t already totally owned. This life would’ve been nice.

It’s not who either of them are, though. They were meant to be friends and in the coming months, that's going to be more than enough. It has to be. It's one of the few lifelines that Steve has.


	9. Ellen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve goes on Ellen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its a short chapter but I thought you guys would like it sooner rather than later.

Ellen Degeneres is a delightful human being. Steve doesn’t watch a lot of TV but Clint likes her show which is how Steve started watching her and she is just as lovely in person as she is from afar. She looks at him and smiles and puts a small hand on his huge forearm in the green room.

“This’ll be a piece of cake,” she promises, giving his arm a squeeze that only feels gentle because he’s a supersoldier. “You’ll feel better once you’re out.” She grins big. “Trust me, I know from out.”

He nods at her a little dazed because she doesn’t treat him like an icon or with any expectation that he be, well, anything. She calls, “Steve, may I call you Steve? Steve,” and promises she’ll go easy on him. This is supposed to be a good thing, she reminds him. “Babies!” she declares, waving her hands through the air. “Yay!”

When he’s under the lights, he hopes doesn’t like a washed out mess. Pepper stands off-stage giving him a huge thumbs up the whole time, nodding like a broken marionette being dragged over cobblestones. He and Ellen make small talk about the differences between the 40s and now and about how Spam hasn’t changed not one little bit, then Ellen leads him into the reveal.

She leans forward in her chair and beams at him. “So, a little bird told me you’ve got something you want to share with us. Is that true?”

“Yeah, actually.” God, did it get hot in here? It feels super hot in here. He rubs the back of his neck and looks around. In the wings, he notices that Tony is standing behind Pepper, his chin on her shoulder because in her killer heels she’s actually taller than he is and God, when did he get here? What is he doing here? And what is Sam doing here too, standing beside the two of them with folded arms, smiling placidly like Steve goes on TV to confess his secondary gender all the time? He’s supposed to be at the VA. Steve doesn’t care. He’s glad the three of them are here.

His eyes water a little and he blames that on the mascara that the makeup girl put on him. He swallows hard and looks at Ellen’s bright face. “I, um, I’ve been keeping a secret for a long time. Over ninety years in fact.” That gets him a laugh from the audience and Ellen. 

She doesn’t look away. ”What’s that?” She asks, leaning in even further, ready to fall out of her seat. “I love a good secret.”

Her gaze is still encouraging and over her shoulder he can see that so are his friends. He can do this. “Despite what people might assume, I’ve always been an Omega,” he says and the crowd gasps loudly. There’s even a couple of shouts. “It’s never been an issue before so I let people think whatever they wanted. Other people’s misconceptions aren’t my problem. I have a job to do and my gender never interfered. Now, though, I finally have a reason to disclose.” 

Ellen’s smile gentles because she knows what’s coming next. “Really? What’s that?”

“My mate and I are expecting. I’m pregnant and I don’t want to spend the next few months hiding.” 

Another audience uproar. Ellen hushes them with her words and her hands bringing everyone back down to earth. “That’s great Steve. I can’t think of anyone who’d be a better parent than Captain America.”

“I don’t think Captain America will have much to do with this,” Steve says, ducking his head shyly. “I’ll just be another new mom, you know?”

“I do,” Ellen agrees. “Which is why we have a surprise for you.”

It’s baby stuff. It’s baby stuff that Steve hadn’t even imagined existed. He is fairly sure that most of it didn’t exist when he was born actually. The presentation of the gifts warms the audience back up and they’re applauding with every new item the redder Steve gets. It feels like too much. He doesn’t deserve this just because he’s a lab experiment gone right. There are parents who really need this stuff, who can’t afford it themselves, who are poor and desperate like he and Bucky were and-

“-donation to the James Buchanan Barnes Foundation.”

“What?”

“I said we’d also be making a twenty-five thousand dollar donation to the James Buchanan Barnes Foundation for Homeless Veterans in your baby’s honor.” She says this casually like its nothing, not public recognition something that he and Sam (mostly Sam) built from the ground up, quietly, while no one was looking. Steve hadn’t even let Tony put his name on it even if he has funneled significant funds into it despite Steve’s insistence that they could manage.

He looks at her with wide eyes and imagines he looks like he’s been hit in the face. “Thank you,” he whispers.

“You’re quite welcome. It’s a really great cause. Your friend would be very proud.”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees. “I think he would be.” He wipes his eyes then. He’s crying on national television. Of everything that’s happened, its the only thing he’s really embarrassed sharing today. That’s not too bad.


	10. Court of Public Opinion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the world reacts to Steve's announcement. Cameos by a few real life TV personalities and one Marvel villain.

JARVIS has already threatened to tell his teammates what he’s doing and ban all the twenty-four hour news channels but Steve cannot stop himself from gorging on the fallout from his revelation. Only the responses aren’t just on the news channels. It is literally everywhere. The news channels are just what he can’t seem to stay away from.

“Come on,” a dumpy man named Bill O’Reilly says. “I know that we let Omegas in the military now but he basically lied his way into the army. He’s been lying to the country for seventy years. Where’s the American integrity in that.”

Click. Steve changes the channel. “Omegas on the front lines,” Says a handsome young man with white haired. “It’s been common in mandatory service countries like Israel for years but now the conversation has been started once again here at home by Captain Steve Rogers announcement this morning of his pregnancy. We have with us today Omega Studies Professor from Harvard university Tyler Martin and General Thaddeus Ross. Thank you both for being with us.”

“Thank you, Anderson,” says Martin. 

“Mr. Cooper," General Ross grunts. He rings a bell that is making Steve’s skin crawl and he can’t place it. 

Tyler Martin talks about the history of Omega warriors. None of the people he mentions are people Steve learned about in school. He talks about Boudicca, Hephastion, Patrokles, the sacred band of Thebes, the warriors of the shogunate era who hid amongst the geisha until they were needed for battle, hell he even talks about the Omega body guards of former dictator named Idi Amin. Steve wants to take his class.

Then Ross opens his mouth and Steve’s heart crashes to his swollen ankles. “We don’t know what effect the serum had on his Omega DNA. Bad enough we’ve got the Hulk running around. What if Rogers is nothing more than a ticking time bomb?”

Cooper and Martin both look like Ross has smacked them. “General," Cooper begins, "I think you might be a blowing things a little out of proportion. Even the Hulk was instrumental in the Battle of-”

“Don’t feed me that Battle of New York horse-beep!-“ Ross snaps. “The Hulk is an impervious killing machine that is living uptown in the lap of luxury with Rogers who could be just like him. It’s careless and stupid of us not to test them at the very least and contain them at best.”

“You’re talking about imprisoning Captain America. Because he’s an Omega,” Martin says slowly. His eyes are wide. 

Cooper has a stone face but even he looks close to cracking. Steve thinks this might end up on Youtube. Joy.

“Oh calm down, sweetheart,” Ross says. “It’s not an anti-Omega thing.”

“Yes,” Martin says, “That’s exactly what it is.” 

“It’s about the serum and what it could be doing to him.”

“Because he’s an Omega. Making him inherently monstrous.”

“Gentlemen,” Cooper begins but they don’t pay him any attention.

“I didn’t say that so don’t get your pretty panties in a twist. This is why we don’t want your kind on the front lines, princess. You get emotional out there and you’re dead. Not to mention what your heat stink will do to a platoon of healthy Alphas. Now take that and amp it up with the Super Soldier Serum. It amplifies everything so best case scenario? You’ve got the equivalent of soldier catnip, the perfect test-tube made -beep!- Might as well drop him in enemy territory during one of those Super Soldier heats and let him act as a distraction. Makes more sense than putting a pregnant Omega in a captaincy.”

“General,” Cooper nearly shouts, “I’m not going to have you come on my program and advocate heat-rape of anyone, let alone a veteran who has done more for this country than possibly any other living serviceman.”

“Please, you have no idea what our working military do compared to-“

Steve feels like he’s going to be sick. No, he is going to be sick. He makes it to the trash can six feet away to the sound of them yelling at each other. He remembers Ross now, or Bruce talking about him, about being hunted by him, about his life being ruined by him, about loving his daughter. 

“JARVIS, change it to that movie star news channel,” he croaks. “The one with the Kardashians?”

“Of course, Steve.”

He climbs to his feet and pads into the bathroom. He brushes his teeth and looks in the mirror. He was crying. Jesus fucking goddamn hormones. He doesn’t cry. That’s not who he is but he’s leaking like a broken sink and not in the sexy way.

He emerges from the bathroom feeling refreshed to the sound of the TV. It’s unbelievable.

“Captain America’s going to be a mom, folks. That’s right, E! News has the scoop. Pictures of him from just yesterday sporting the baby bump. And of course the question on everyone’s mind - who is Captain Mommy’s baby daddy?”

Steve stands frozen as a picture of Tony flashes up. “Is it Tony Stark? Mated to Pepper Potts after the Battle of New York, we thought it was unlikely but given his wild history - can you say threesome?”

Then, oh sweet leaping Christ on a crutch, he’s going to be killed because a picture of Sam flashes up next. Yeah. Sam will murder him.

“Or is it handsome Air Force veteran and VA counselor Samuel Wilson. Multiple reports have seen the pair canoodling at a coffee shop uptown-“

Uptown? The Bronx was suddenly uptown? On what planet?

“Could this delicious dish of talk, dark, and handsome be Steve’s mate?”

He drops onto the couch and puts his head in his hands. “No,” he moans. Canoodling? They get coffee after they run. Well, Steve gets gross green tea because he’s not allowed caffeine but that's not canoodling and oh god he thought Ross was bad. Sam was going to torture him with this forever.

“Are you alright, sir?” JARVIS asks, his voice coming from everywhere. “Is there anything I can get you something to help?”

“A swift and merciful death,” Steve mumbles.

“As that's against the laws of robotics, I’m afraid I can’t do that, Dave.”

“What?”

“The laws of robotics are from the works of Isaac Asimov and admittedly poor joke is from the film 2001: A Space Odyssey.” The screen flashes and suddenly credits are rolling. “Blame Tony for my sense of humor,” JARVIS accused. “I have, however, taken the liberty of starting to movie and transferring the complete works of Asimov to your tablet.”

“Thanks, JARVIS. That’s probably a good idea.”

“You’re welcome sir.”

The movie is slow but compelling. HAL9000 makes Steve want to run screaming out of the building so that he can get as far away from JARVIS and Tony’s other robots. He reads some of the Asimov and the three laws of robotics make him feel a little better even if they are just science fiction. He thinks Bucky would love Asimov. He always liked the dime-store scifi comics.

Then he makes the mistake of casually, thoughtlessly turning on the TV. His own face is the first thing he sees and he’s sucked back down the rabbit hole.

The thing of it is that it doesn’t end. He’s all the morning shows can talk about and local news stations and, of course, the news channels the next day. Eventually Tony arrives with Clint and they haul him out of his apartment.

“You’re going to be on the Daily Show,” Clint says, practically giddy. He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet like he’s a little boy about to open all his Christmas presents at once.

“Is that a good thing?”

“Trust me. It’s an honor just to be nominated,” Tony says as Clint drapes an arm over his shoulder and anchoring him in place in the TV room.

Steve rubs his forehead and sighs. “I don’t know what that means.”

“You will,” Tony promises.

The Daily Show turns out to be a news satire comedy show. They are a lot nicer in tone than any other show except Anderson 360 had been and they jokingly they call the situation Captain Omegica and use a poorly photoshopped image of him in the suit with a belly. To the credit of the show, they spend most of it mocking the pundits.

“Um, hello, this is still Captain America, you guys,” Jon Stewart. “Did you fight the Nazis and then save the world from an alien invasion? No? Then shut your mouths. And I’ll tell you something else.” He spins to face another camera. “Kids, cover your ears if you’re up this late but to those of you who are wondering how this could possibly happened to Captain America of all people, I have one word for you: sex. Most likely hot, sweaty, ballslappy sex.” He sits back in his chair with wide eyes and clicks his pen. “That's right. Babies come from sex.” He glares down the camera with so much defiance its hilarious. “Yeah I said it. Whatcha gonna do about it?”

It makes Steve laugh so hard he cries. Tony smiles at him and squeezes his shoulder as the phone rings. 

It’s Sam. He picks it up to Sam shouting, “Why did I get congratulated on my impending fatherhood at work today Steve?”

Steve laughs again a little choked. “Yeah. About that. Have you been watching TV?”


	11. Dancing Monkeys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Phil appeals to Steve's better nature.

“That was some stunt you pulled, Captain.”

And here we go again, Steve thinks. He doesn’t look at Director Coulson. He’s got a leg cramp. Again. 

He has no idea why his leg has gone rogue. Apparently no one knows why pregnant people get leg cramps but with the fatigue and the dizziness, its just a joy. At least he doesn’t want to puke anymore. That’s nice. He could go the rest of his life without ever vomiting again and it would be too soon. 

His physical symptoms are getting in the way almost as badly as the throngs of paparazzi he has to sneak past every day to get up to the Bronx to meet Sam each morning. Almost. The paparazzi are work. 

Between Bruce, Natasha, and Clint’s training, Steve is getting really good at sneaking around them. Well, that and Tony’s underground parking garage lets out two blocks away. Add in the combination of sunglasses, slouchy hoodies, hats, and a hunch that brings his height down about four inches has kept him from getting him caught on camera for more than a two weeks so far.

“It wasn’t a stunt,” Steve sighs, rubbing his stomach which is finally a real stomach. It just sort of happened sometime between Ellen and SHIELD Director Phil Coulson’s unceremonious arrival at Avengers Tower. He just woke up one morning in between week eleven and twelve and it was there. 

He cannot for the life of him stop touching it. It’s his own personal miracle. He wants Phil to go away and leave him with his wonton soup, his sore legs and his amazing new body, thanks. 

“Then what do you call it?”

“I call it acknowledging my celebrity and doing what I had to in order to have my child freely.”

Coulson huffs air out through his nose but he doesn’t manage to hold back the twitch of his lips. “Well, your stunt has brought sixteen agents out of hiding and into active SHIELD duty. So, I actually came here to thank you.”

Steve smirks. He waits.

“Eleven of the agents who came out of the cold were Omegas.” Coulson adds.

“Then I suppose I owe Clint ten bucks,” Steve replies, mildly pleased. “He guessed this would happen.” He leans back into the softness of his couch cushions and kneads his left knee joint with his knuckles. His joints hurt too. It’s a regular party in his body even with the serum. “I doubted.”

“You shouldn’t, Captain. You’re a powerful symbol,” Coulson says. It sounds like a request.

“What are you asking for, Director?”

“Phil, please.”

“What are you asking for, Phil?”

“I want you to make the rounds.” Phil grits out. 

“The rounds.” 

“Yes. The media rounds. The Talk. The View. The Real. The Soup. The Daily Show. The Colbert Report. The O’Reilly Factor.”

“All the The’s you mean.” And he will cut off a finger before he goes on The O’Reilly Factor after what he said in the wake of Steve’s announcement about Omegas in the military. 

“Well I think you should do Rachel Maddow and Anderson Cooper 360 as well but yes. All the The’s as you so aptly put it. Reach out. Show our agents in hiding that America didn’t fall to HYDRA. Show America that America is still-“

“A bastion of truth, honor, patriotism? God bless America. All that jazz?” Steve asks.

“Yes.”

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. He’d seen enough of those shows to know he wants nothing to do with most of them. Anderson Cooper seemed okay for trying to reign in Ross and Jon Stewart had stood up for him. Steve didn’t want to go back to being the dancing monkey for the best of the pundits and not for the sake of pure patriotism.

“You and I both know thats not the case. My mate is out there, covered up by the government and HYDRA and SHIELD with no way to heal in safety. Hell, Bucky’s the very least of the mess those three started. I won’t be part of a lie.”

“Then go on the airwaves and say that. Show everyone that America runs not just on the desires of rich white slave owners but on the need for the freedom to express our differences safely and the ideals of independence and individual rights. Just because this country is not perfect doesn’t mean its not worth saving.”

Steve sighs and stares Phil down. “Who did you think I was when you were growing up, Phil?”

“I thought you were a man who would steal a plane when he needed to help a friend and lead the first integrated unit in military history when the US had the Japanese in concentration camps and blacks living under Jim Crow. I thought you were a progressive thinker who believed that fascism was wrong but so was the American marginalization and oppression of Omegas and women. I thought you would die to keep people safe. That is who I thought you were when I was growing up and quite frankly, Captain, its who I think you still are. I just think perhaps you lost sight of all that.”

There is no argument in the face of that. Phil is all the kids who looked up to him grown up and fulfilled. He’s a true patriot and a warrior and above all a good man. He tries so hard to do the right thing by SHIELD, his country, his friends, and his mate. Steve admires him truth be told.

“And you think doing talk shows is going to help? Thats like going back to the USO.”

“You made a difference in the USO. Besides it’s not as if I’m saying do it forever. I don’t want you out of the field permanently, Captain. No one wants that. The reality of the situation is that you’re not going to be fighting in your condition anyway are you?”

Damn, but he really hates that Phil has a point. “I’ll consider it.”

“That’s all I ask.” Phil’s shoulders visibly drop though. He looks like he’s just gotten a full nights sleep and a massage. It makes Steve realize he needs to think about this even more seriously. Damnit.

“Are you back into the cold?” He asked in a desperate bid to change the subject. He doesn’t want to think about being a show pony. It makes his stomach hurt.

“Not yet. May’s covering for me for twenty-four hours” It leaves the implication of what he’ll be doing with the time hanging unsaid in the air. Well, Steve hopes Clint has a good time. 

“Everyone needs a break.”

“Can’t argue with you there,” Phil agrees. “Make sure your break means something.”

And once again, Steve cannot find the words to disagree.


	12. Strange Bedfellows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve wakes up in bed. He's not alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The new semester of grad school has started so updates will be slower but I'm still writing. Here's a Bucky chapter to tied you over.

Steve awakens to lips on the back of his neck, an arm slung over his middle. He holds his breath and the change is enough to notify his bedmate to his wakefulness.

“You smell so good,” a voice murmurs, mouthing the skin at the back of his neck, his flesh hand moving just the slightest bit on his curved belly. Steve squeezes his eyes closed and goes closed because oh, oh that’s all Bucky, Brooklyn accent and loving tone. “How can you smell so good?”

“It’s nature,” Steve replies, trying to relax into the embrace because dear God does he want to be held and he knows this embrace. “It made me to smell good to you now so you’d feel biologically inclined to take care of us.”

“I’m not doing the best job at that am I?” he asks, layers of guilt coating every single word. The Winter Soldier is only in the room in the form of the metal of the arm that Bucky isn’t letting touch him. It’s the best thing Steve’s ever felt.

“You’re doing what you can. I know that. I love you.”

“It’s not enough,” Bucky whispers. His hand is rubbing his belly in a slow steady circle and Steve wants to cry. He doesn’t even bother to blame it on the hormones. More than seventy years have passed since he laid in Bucky’s arms. It’s been far far too long. “I’m not enough. I’m so sorry.”

“I’ll take it. I’ll take you anyway I can have you. Always have.”

“Yeah,” Bucky says. “Steve? I don’t know how long I’ll be here.”

Steve sighs. He’s used to Bucky and the Winter Soldier disappearing by now. This is no surprise. “I know.”

“No I mean, here, in my head. I’m not…there. I lose all this time. I wake up and it's the 70s. I wake up and it's the 2013 and I’m trying to kill you. I wake up and it's 2015 and you’re in heat in front of me in some rundown HYDRA base. I wake up and I’m in Newark taking apart a HYDRA cell with a knife and one assault rifle and realize I haven’t seen you in weeks. I don’t know where I go or why I leave. I’m just-“ He chokes on a swallow. “I’m just gone, Stevie.”

Steve covers his hand and laces their fingers together. “Then don’t leave this time. Physically, I mean. Stay and let us help you when the Winter Soldier comes back. Decide it now.”

“I remember him. I know what he, I, did. They’ll put me in a box and never let me out.”

Steve turns so he can look at Bucky. He’s washed for the first time since Steved seen him during his heat. His hair shining chestnut spread across one of Steve’s pillows. His face is shaven and smooth. He’s wearing a flannel plaid shirt over a No Sleep ’Til Brooklyn novelty T-shirt. He must have been himself for at least a day to look this good.

“Jesus.” Steve breathes. “You are so beautiful.”

Bucky gives a wide cocky smile that is so familiar. “Look who’s talking. The glow everyone talks about, you’ve got it, baby doll. God I could just eat you up.”

“Yeah?”

“Mm,” Bucky hums, his eyes glinting in the dark. 

“This place is wired for sound. What if they find you?”

“I didn’t set off any of the alarms and not even Natalia is good enough to find my trail yet. ”

“You better be right.” He rolls over a little farther, on top of Bucky and kisses him. Bucky used to like it when he took initiative and it seems he still does if the way he rumbles deep in his chest and winds his arms around Steve’s neck are any indication.

He slides his hands down Steve’s back and grabs the meat of his ass hard with both hand. Steve can take the intensity and what would hurt on anyone else just makes him moan.

“Get out of these pants,” Bucky growls. 

Steve obeys. His submissive instincts kicking into overdrive as he kicks his pajama bottoms off. He wants to roll onto his belly and present or lie on his back and plant his feet on the mattress to spread his legs or curl up with his knees tucked up to his chest and hold himself open. There are too many options and just getting naked has him dripping.

Thankfully, Bucky takes the burden of deciding from him. Stripping from his own clothes, he pauses to kiss Steve on the jaw, then the lips and say, “Get on your back for me, baby doll.”

The endearment doesn’t seem to fit like it did when he was small and delicate like the porcelain of real dolls. In Bucky’s mouth though, it feels like home, like mating, like adoration. Bucky only used ‘baby doll’ back then when he wanted him so it was good to hear it now, a lifetime, body, and babybelly later. Bucky still wants him.

Steve sprawls on his bed, spread eagle and thinks the mattress has never been more comfortable than this. He’s never fit better on the sheets than he does when Bucky, gloriously naked, scars and all, slides between his thighs like a knife through warm butter.

Hands glide down his hips and towards his ass but that's not what he wants. Not now. Not after all this time. 

“No fingers,” Steve gasps at the weight of Bucky draped on his chest. “Just get inside me.”

“Okay, Steve.” Bucky peppers kisses along his cheekbone, down his jaw to his neck where he licks at the bond bite. “Anything you want.”

His hole is so wet that the slide inside is smooth and quick, filling all the emptiness in one slick glide. Steve cries out and Bucky groans, mouthing over the mating scar. His body clenches tight around Bucky’s cock making Bucky thrust involuntarily. 

“More,” Steve demands, reaching up to wrap his arms around Bucky’s neck. “More, Buck.”

“I gotcha, baby doll. I gotcha.” His human arm comes up to rest beside Steve’s head so his hand can cup his jaw. His robotic one holds him up so that the angle is just right when he slams in again and again and oh God, he would like this to never end, and- And- 

His ankles seem to lock around Bucky’s waist on their own. It lifts his hips and changes the angle to hit his prostate. Stars explode behind his eyes. It makes him beg. “Please. Oh Jesus, please.”

“What do you want, Stevie? You can have everything.”

“Harder. I can take it. Remember?”

Bucky doesn’t answer. He just fucks him viciously. The sound of their skin slapping together is loud in the silence of the room. Their foreheads pressed together, their breathing fills up the air. Steve can taste his mate in the air and can feel the bond-high building with his orgasm. 

“Bite me.”

“Yes,” Bucky hisses and then sinks his Alpha canines, slightly sharper than those of a Beta and built to mark just like an Omega’s, into the decades old scar. It hurts so good Steve can feel tears well in his eyes even as pleasure floods his brain. 

When Bucky pulls his teeth free Steve returns the gesture, completing the circuit. It’s electric, shooting them both into a bond-high. Bucky throws his head back and knots, spreading Steve open and pressing his prostate hard. Steve comes at the feel of Bucky’s seed spilling into him, choking on a scream, he doesn’t want to risk anyone hearing even if Tony says the apartments are soundproof.

Steve shakes through his orgasm and clings to his mate. He feels whole, finally, after all this time, stretched full and wrapped up in love. 

He sighs a little when Bucky peppers kisses along his jaw, cheeks, eyebrows, down his nose and across the line of his lips. It feels like 1940, before the war, like they’re newly mated and everything is right again.

While Bucky is knotted inside him, Steve reaches up and runs his hands through Bucky’s long hair. If it were Bucky’s choice, he’d admit that he that he likes it, likes the way the strands feel like they play on his fingers forever. “Do you remember when we used to lie like this for hours?”

“After you’d been sick,” Bucky agrees. “Any time your heart or lungs made a comeback, we’d fuck just like this and I’d lie on top to feel your chest move and your heart beat.” He kisses Steve’s neck over his bond bite. “Now to feel the baby.”

“J.” Steve says. “Until I know if its a boy or a girl I’m a calling it J.” He bites at Bucky’s lower lip. It looks too good not to. “For James. Or Jamie if its a girl. It will decide for us.”

Bucky looks stricken and his knot fades faster than usual in. Ninety seconds he pulls out and is sitting on the edge of the bed. His body vibrates with tremors and maybe he’s crying but Steve doesn’t look over at his face when presses his cheek to his shaking shoulder blade. 

“It’s okay.”

“The Winter Soldier said six months. How can I be away from you two for that long?” he asks wetly.

“Decide to stay. Let me get Natasha.”

The shaking gets worse. Then all at once it stops. Bucky pulls away and grabs his boxers off the floor. He pulls them up, then jeans before turning back to the bed. There are tear tracks on his cheeks and a tremulous smile on his lips. “I don’t want to be pulled away again but if they put me in a cage I may never come back. I can already feel him pushing his way up.” He taps his forehead gently with his knuckles.

Steve nods. “Okay.” He holds out his hand. “Come here?” Bucky practically collapses into him, curling up with his head on Steve’s lap, face pressed into his bare stomach, arms around his waist. Steve buries his hand in that long hair and looks up like the ceiling is where the AI lives when he really does know better. “I won’t let them. I would never let them.”

“I can’t stay. You know that,” Bucky says. “He won’t let me. I’m slipping.”

Steve cupped the back of his head. “No. No, Bucky please.”

“You need to let me go. He could hurt you.”

“He hasn’t. He won’t.”

“J could be in danger.” He lifts his face. “We can’t risk it. I’m falling.” 

Steve feels punched breathless. He nods and lets go. He watches as Bucky climbs into his clothes. His moves get stiff has he moves. The Winter Soldier is coming back.

“Natalia.” He chokes out. “Call Natalia. Don’t let me back in here.”

“Bucky.”

“Don’t.” His face are going dull right before Steve’s eyes. It’s a living nightmare. He keeps being left and it should hurt less every time but watching Bucky be consumed hurts even more. 

“Wait.” Steve says and jumps out of bed, naked. He across the room to his bag where it lays on the ground and fishes out a flash drive. Tony coded it for him. It’s the latest ultrasound, J’s tiny body and rapid heartbeat in black and white. “Take this.” He presses it into the Winter Soldier’s hand, palm to palm. He forces the man’s fingers closed around it. 

“Natalia,” he says in return which is not what Steve wanted to here but he takes it. It’s something. It’s concern. It’s a sign that somewhere inside Bucky is still awake.


	13. Spiderwebs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Black Widow's influence is far reaching.

Fifteen minutes later, Steve is curled up on his couch in sleep pants and an Army t-shirt when there's a knock on his door. He wraps his arms around his stomach and glances at the door. “JARVIS?”

“Ms. Romanoff is right outside your apartment. Should I authorize unlocking code and let her in?”

“Yes,” Steve chokes out and with that, there’s a beep of the lock disengaging and Natasha strides into the room clad all in black combat dress despite the late hour. He had called her. She could be trusted and fulfilling Bucky’s request was the least he could do for all three of them. 

“You let him go. Again. What is wrong with you, Steve?”

The truth is he’s an emotional fool. His mate enters the room and reason flies out of it. He looks at her and she sighs. She can see it all in his eyes and has no patience for it. He can’t blame her. He’s running out of it himself, and its his own life. 

She drags her hand down her face and begins to pace. He counts her steps. Ten one way, sharp turn, ten back, turn. She’s a raw nerve, exposed to air and observation and he knows that the latter is her gift to him. She’s letting him see her mind work. She could be a stone wall but she trusts him enough to make herself opaque.

“You can’t do it again. You put yourself at risk every single time and whats more you put everyone else in the tower at risk. He may not openly threaten you but he is the most deadly assassin on the planet and you live in a building with some of the most valuable targets on earth. Tony alone-”

Steve has never thought of it like that. He’s not usually careless or thoughtless. “I wouldn’t let him hurt Tony or anyone else. I would stop him. I _have_ stopped him.”

“Right. So long as you’re the only one he’s hurting everything is fine.”

All right, Steve has no response to that because yes. She’s right. Damn it. 

“Nat, I think you’re blowing this out of proportion,” he lies and she can read it. She’s a master spy. Of course she can tell.

“Sam told me about his visit to the Bronx.”

“Oh God.”

“I didn’t say anything but after this.” She shakes her head. “I thought I could trust you, Steve.”

“You can. You know you can. Always.”

“Not where Yasha is concerned.”

That brings him up short. She’s never called Bucky anything but the Winter Soldier so far. Now he’s not even James, but, “Yasha?” 

Now it’s Natasha’s turn to look chagrined. “I may not have told you everything.”

He lifts an eyebrow which he hopes successfully conveys the sentiment of _oh really_. Natasha is secrets wrapped in shadows. That he doesn’t know something about her is the least surprising thing in his life right now.

“When I was training, I was part of something called The Red Room. It was part of Soviet program called Project X. I honestly don’t know how HYDRA was involved by the Winter Soldier was in USSR custody for over fifty years. He trained me.”

“He did more than that. Didn’t he?”

“I’m an Omega female, Steve. The Red Room wanted us to have certain skills. Yasha was mated and with the physical fall out of being frozen. Seducing him was a challenge set forth to all of us. I was the only one to succeed and was given the reward of his combat training.”

“You wouldn’t call him that if that was all it was.”

She nods. “I loved him in my way and I think he may have loved me too but that didn’t stop him from shooting me in the gut to reach his target. That’s what you need to remember Steve. Connection doesn’t override his programming. If he gets triggered, it may not matter that you’re his mate.”

“He’s free now.”

“Is he?” 

He meets her impassive green eyes and feels cold. He doesn’t know what to say to that. It names him want to ask questions he knows won’t get answers to. 

“So what, Nat? What do you propose? I can’t hunt him down this way and I can’t let you put him in a cage.”

“You can,” she declares. “Containment is the best option for both of you.”

“You’re kidding yourself if you think he’ll let that stand. Besides, I gave him my word.”

“So you won’t be the one to do it. I will.” She would too. The set of her jaw and the square lines of her shoulders are a promise. She would do what was needed to control Bucky and let Steve keep his integrity. She was a true friend that way. It’s touching in a truly horrible sort of way. 

His stomach flips. Steve doesn’t know if its anxiety or the baby. He hopes its just J. pressing on something. He doesn’t think it is though.

“Are we supposed to trust SHEILD deprogramming?”

“No. There are other options.”

“I know that.” Again, he’s lying. He hasn’t lied this much since the war. 

“You don’t mean that but it doesn’t matter. I’m going out after him, Steve.”

“Nat-“ he protests.

She shakes her head and folds her arms over her chest. “You don’t have to like it but that’s whats happening now.”

“And what do you think you’re going to do when you find him?”

“Bring him back.”

“If he lets you. He nearly killed you too last time if you recall.”

She doesn’t even blink. “I’m aware. That changes nothing.”

“And if I stop you.”

“Okay Captain Mom. Try.”

Steve pushes himself up off the couch to tower over here. “You think I can’t?”

“I think one solid hit in the right place and anyone can do the kind of damage your baby won’t recover from, super serum or no.” She arched a perfectly shaped brow. “I’m willing to bet you won’t risk it.”

The thing is, she isn’t wrong. “You can’t bring him back here. There’s nothing left of SHIELD and the government will put him in a room with no windows or doors and never let him out.”

“Tony’s already renovated a floor for him. Then we work with him and Bruce and maybe even Professor Xavier.”

“Who?”

“It doesn’t matter. What matters is bringing the Winter Soldier in from the cold. Just this once, trust me.”

Steve drops his hand to his stomach and shakes his head. “I can’t.”

Natasha looks at him with pity in her eyes. “Frankly, Steve, at this point that doesn’t really matter.”


	14. No News Is Good News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which Ross is a Dick and Pepper is Impressive

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this Pepper still has her Extremis powers because I love superpower!Pepper. Also, sorry for the slow updates. Turns out graduate school takes actual work. Who knew?

Ross is trying to get a subpoena to access Steve’s latest medical record. Does it freak him out? Oh yes. When Pepper told him his blood ran cold.

“We have an platoon of lawyers and enough money to start a small country. We’re going to block him at every turn.” Pepper covers his hand with hers. “He’s not coming near you.”

“Confident, aren’t you?”

“Our people have dealt with government oversight issues before. This is no different.”

“Except for how my body is technically Army property.”

“Was,” Pepper says sharply. “You’re not some experiment. You’re not even part of the military anymore.”

“The paperwork-“

“We can get around it. No one can deal within the four corners of the document better than our teams. Can you trust us on this, Steve?” she asks, wide eyes guileless and open.

“I trust that you think so.”

“We’ll take that,” Pepper says with a warm smile. “So how far along are you?”

“Fourteen weeks. Dr. Naved wants to see me.” He has been putting it off. Not because he doesn’t care about the health of his baby but since his visit from Bucky a two weeks ago he feels like going without him is a betrayal. “I haven’t made an appointment yet.”

“I understand,” Pepper says even though she cannot possibly. “I also wanted to talk to you about interviews.”

“Interviews?”

“Yes. It’s been enough time that it won’t seem like the media pressured you into appearing but public interest is still strong. Now’s the time to speak your piece. Maria and I both think Time Magazine is the way to go.”

“Time Magazine?” Steve remembers that his mother had liked Time. She used to bring copies of it home from the hospital waiting room when he was sick. He’d practiced life drawings from the people in pictures. He’d been in Time once as Captain America but never interviewed. They’d just written a piece on him from warfront footage and USO performances.

“Going for print seems to be our best option. We don’t want overwhelming exposure here. You’re old school and so is traditional media, remind people that you’re from a time before TV and internet and that your values are as well so your pregnancy is nothing revolutionary.”

“Isn’t it though? I’m pretty sure I’m the first enhanced person to carry a child.”

“You are as far as we know, discounting members of the mutant community.”

Steve stares at her. “Mutants?”

Pepper’s lips thin. “Was that not part of your history briefing?”

“Um, no. I would remember if they told me about mutants. Like, people with powers like out of comic books?”

“Powers, any genetic variation from normal human DNA really so the variations can go from the huge to the barely noticeable. Tony’s hired a technopath since Extremis happened.” She looks down at her hands. They glow faintly red. She frowns a little. He doesn’t know much about Pepper’s new powers. He just knows they’re dangerous and for awhile, she wasn’t around people. He’s just glad she’s back. “Professor Xavier’s been very helpful with teaching us both control.”

“Nat mentioned him. She said he might help Bucky.”

“If anyone can.” Pepper agrees. “He’s a powerful telepath.”

“Telepath? Like he can read minds?”

Pepper nods and Steve sighs. Maybe one day his life would stop getting weirder and weirder. Aliens. Cryogenic freezing. Telepathy. Clearly today was not that day. 

“And that will fix things with Ross?” He doesn’t see it. He hasn’t forgotten Bruce’s casual horror stories either.

Pepper purses her lips again at that. “No but being able to successfully turn one of HYDRA’s most infamous killers is going to add a lot to the perceived power SHIELD possesses even if Professor X does the heavy lifting and that will help protect you. Not to mention, Bruce adores you.”

“What does that have to do wi- oh.”

“Yes. It’s not something we want to deal with but Bruce has come to us and made clear that the Big Guy is available if Ross truly enters the picture.”

Bruce doesn’t really like being the Hulk. Or maybe he likes it too much? Steve isn’t sure. The point is that he tries not to shift if he can help it. That Bruce would do that for him warms Steve’s heart an unreasonable amount, actually.

“I think that no one needs that.”

“We might,” Pepper sighs. “The thing is, he’s fairly tenacious and he won’t leave the news cycle. It’s making the Senate defense committees nervous.”

Decoded: Rhodey knows something and Tony is nervous.

“Does Hill think I need to go into hiding or something?”

“No. Not yet.”

“But it could?”

Pepper’s fingers twitch like she wants to rub her forehead or brush her hair back. She doesn’t do either. She’s a model of self restraint except her stainless steel pen seems to be…melting. Droplets of metal fall to the floor like condensation off a glass. It’s fascinating.

“Your pen is melting.”

She looks down at her hand and her eyebrows shoot up. “Goddamn it.” She drops the pen on the floor but rivulets of metal are still dripping from her fingers, coating her hands with wet silver. There aren’t tears in here eyes but they are definitely bright. “Can someone please get me a trashcan and a fucking Bic, now please?”

An executive assistant appears with a stainless steel trashcan and a plastic biro. She drops her pen in the trash, wipes her hand on her five-thousand dollar skirt and takes the ninety-nine cent pen. Cursing and careless of her clothes, he’s genuinely never liked her more. He’s also never been more worried for her.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks.

“Yes. No. I don’t know Steve. I need you to cooperate. Time Magazine. Will you do it?”

“For you.”

“Try and do it for yourself.”

“I don’t think I’m there yet.”

“What if I could keep it down to a photo spread? Annie Leibowitz or David La Chapelle both owe us favors. We could do a photo essay with a few quotes about impending motherhood showcasing your more, and I hate to use this term, human side. You wouldn’t have to rehash but the exposure would still be out there.”

“How is this different than the dog and pony shows with the USO?”

“The artistic accolades of the photographers we’d hire for one. The control we’d maintain for another. I have connections with Time. We can keep a leash on this, Steve and you can still be the symbol the world needs.”

“Have you been talking to Coulson?”

She toys with an earring with her clean hand. “We may have brunch on occasion when he’s not saving the world.”

He heaves a defeated sigh. "When do you want me to meet with the photo people?”

“Week from Tuesday. I already booked Annie. She’s already dying to meet you; it’ll be great. I’ll have JARVIS send you the details.” She goes up on tiptoe and kisses his cheek. Steve watches her walk away and can’t help but feel that he just got played.


	15. Yellow is a Gender Neutral Color

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve goes to the doctor and discusses some things with Bruce and Tony.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Midterms! I finished a big thing tonight and got super inspired! So I thought you guys would like to have the chapter sooner rather than later.

“Congratulations,” Dr. Javed says, moving the wand slightly to the left on Steve’s stomach two days after his meeting with Pepper. “It’s a boy. It’s still to early to test for dynamic but-“

“Shut up.” Steve whispers and reaches out with a blind hand for something to hang on to. A boy. He doesn’t know what he’s going to do with a boy, teach him to play baseball maybe. Or maybe he’ll want do ballet to be like that guy Natasha showed him, Baryshnikov. It doesn’t matter. A boy is real. A boy is something he can imagine.

“And may your first child be a masculine child,” Tony declares with a faux New York Italian accent, clasping him on the shoulder. It reminds Steve a tiny bit of Howard but a lot of the wise guys he and Bucky ran messages for sometimes, before they finished high school, before Sarah caught them and actually physically shook both of them and told them to never, ever do that again. So probably he’s referencing something Steve doesn’t know about yet. 

That doesn’t matter too much because a moment later he catches Steve’s hand and holds it like the brother Steve never had. Steve wonders idly what Howard would think of this, and decides that he’d probably never have gotten this close to Tony if Howard were still here. So he dismisses the thought and clings to the friend he has.

Dr. Javed sets the wand aside and smiles at them. “Fetal development is excellent. The blood work will tell us more. I’ve been consulting with Dr. Banner on the baby’s vitals. It should tell us how yours and Barnes’s manipulated DNA is effecting development. I’ll send for him and leave the two of you to talk.”

Steve flops back, sighing and pulling Tony’s hand to his chest. He is not going to cry. He doesn’t cry. Tony moves around so they’re face to face and grins at him. “So a boy, huh?

“Yeah,” Steve sighs and oh, yeah, there are the tears. He’s a super soldier not some sad weepy silent movie idol. But he’s having a baby boy. He can cry if he wants to. “I don’t know what to do with a boy.”

“But you would with a girl?”

Steve laughs. “Not really.”

“Pepper says yellow is a good gender-neutral color that makes people happy.”

Steve’s eyes are still leaking. “But you think red and gold is better?”

“Hey, babies dig the shiny. It’s a fact. Come on.” He holds a hand and helps Steve up. “I think Bruce’s waiting for us and you could use some clean up a little before we hear whatever blood mojo he has to share.” 

He grabs a towel from somewhere behind Steve and tosses it to him before leaving the exam room. He wipes the conductive gel off his belly and grimaces. Then his phone buzzes. There’s an email with an attachment at the Grant Buchanan email. When he opens it, its a hi-res, 3-D projection of the ultrasound he was just looking at. He still has it open when he goes to join Tony and Bruce.

Tony is grinning. “Cool right?” He snatches the phone and expands the projection so that his son’s image fills a solid two square feet of are space. “These new .3dp files are still experimental but they work on the StarkPhones. Bruce, check out this kid. He’s got Cap’s nose.”

“That is not my nose,” Steve says, staring at the blue light of the projection. “It’s barely a nose it all.” It will be soon though. His son will have a nose and lips and tiny fingers and toes and ears.

“It’s just what people say, Steve,” Bruce reassures him. He takes the phone from his hand and turns off the projection. “Now let's have a seat and talk okay?”

He’s…gentle. Too gentle. Steve can feel a panic rising but he stamps it down. Nope. He’s not doing that. He won’t react to a scenario until he has all the details. Apparently becoming a parent is a lot like combat. Keeping calm is key.

“So I ran his blood work and, Steve, I think there’s a very good chance that the genetic alterations that were made to you have passed on as dominant traits. There’s no way to be sure about things like strength and speed until he’s born but white cell count, DNA spectral analysis, and protein readings from the sample you gave pretty much hit all squares the Project Rebirth biochemical checklist.”

“But so do yours, Bruce.”

“Yes to a degree but my levels are different, hugely and only present when I’m the Other Guy. Yours and the baby’s-“

“James.” Steve blurts. “Or Jamie. Junior maybe? JJ? I haven’t really figured out…” he trails off but Tony is grinning at him and Bruce is giving him a shy smile. “Anyway. Sorry. You were saying.”

“They’re the same as yours. We don’t have any samples from Barnes so I don’t know where the little one falls comparatively with his alterations but likely, your serum and alterations are dominant because Rebirth actually changed your genetic code. I am fairly sure he’s inherited it from you. I’ll need to get an amniocentesis in the next week or so to be sure but,” Bruce rubs his neck awkwardly, “I’m pretty sure he’s a super soldier.”

“He’s a baby.” Steve chokes out, horrified. “And then he’ll be a child. You say that like he doesn’t have a choice.”

Bruce takes off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose. “To a certain degree, he doesn’t. You both have blue eyes, so chances are he’ll have blue eyes too. Same thing.”

“Except for the fact that he’ll be born a weapon,” Steve growls.

“Steve no,” Bruce begins but Steve shakes his head. 

“In the eyes of people like Ross and HYDRA and who knows who the hell else.” He swallows hard because the reality of what a child with that kind of power could mean is only too obvious. He’s best friends with one of the clearest examples after all. “Natasha wasn’t altered until after the Red Room got her and she was what five? Seven? Does she even know?”

“There is no way on earth anyone is going to get their hands on Junior,” Tony says. “His aunts and uncles are the Avengers. His dad is the Winter Soldier and his mom is Captain America. He’ll be the safest kid in the world.” 

Steve still feels gunshot at the idea of his baby boy taken for the powers he didn’t ask for. Because he will be at risk for that and getting sent to some sort of training program like Nat was would probably be a best case scenario. There other things HYDRA could do. Cloning maybe? Dissection? And who knew what the hell Ross and the military would want. He dropped his head between his knees as best he could with the curve of his belly getting in the way. 

Tony’s calloused hand lands on the back of his neck. “Steve, stop. Whatever you’re thinking, you have my guarantee that it will not happen.”

“You can’t know that.”

“No. Okay you’re right. But you’re in a position to prevent pretty much anything that could hurt your kid. That's amazing, more than most people are afforded.”

“And you’ll be prepared,” Bruce adds. “Ounce of prevention and all that.”

“Will he get to be a little boy, do you think?” Steve asks, voice ragged with fear and sadness.

“Yes,” Tony and Bruce both say at exactly the same moment. The complete certainty in their voices, faces, and bearing is so total that Steve feels like he can finally breathe. 

For now, he’ll assume they’re right. He's powerless to do anything else.


	16. Take a Load Off Annie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In Which Steve has a Session with Annie Leibovitz.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I FINISHED ALL MY MIDTERMS. YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS? FIC TIME! ENJOY! I DID! This section actually made me tear up a tiny bit writing it. Doesnt mean you will. I just have a thing about art.
> 
> Everything I know about Annie Leibovitz's personal life I gleaned from Wikipedia. I apologize in advance for any mistakes.

The Annie Liebovitz thing starts as expected, a room with lots of lights and a woman in her early sixties with wild blond hair who greets him with great enthusiasm. It’s really great except for how she has him take off his shirt and puts him in a pair of black sweats that say Brooklyn on the side of either leg. “People want to know you,” Annie says. “Not Captain America. You, Steve, the man and the mom to be.”

“So are you excited?” she asks, snapping away.

“Yeah I am.” He says trying not to just stand there awkwardly but she doesn’t give too much direction.

“Do you know the sex? Dynamic?”

“I know the sex but not the dynamic and I’m not really ready to share that yet.”

“I get that,” Annie says. Click. Click. Click. “With my first, Susan and I didn’t know what it was until she popped out.” She laughs. “Needless to say we were ill prepared, so I found out about the twins at twelve weeks.”

Steve laughs so hard he finds himself clutching his left peck with his right hand. Click. Click. Click. 

“Yeah. Be glad you aren’t having twins,” Annie declares. “I don’t think even the serum could prepare you for that.”

He puts one hand on his stomach and runs the other through his hair. “The serum doesn’t help with much of it. I still get all the same crazy symptoms and I still worry.”

“Means you’ll be a good mom.” Annie sighs. “Susan was a great mom. We lost her right before the twins were born.”

“Oh Jesus. I’m sorry.”

Annie shrugs. “I just want you to know that I can relate a little, to what you’re going through, a pregnancy without a partner. It’s been obvious in the interviews that your Alpha’s absence isn’t your choice. I’ve been there. I mean Susan was a Beta so things were a little different and we spent a while in the eighties closeted but…” she sighs.

“He’s…complicated.”

“Male Alpha then. That’s a little surprising all things considered. With what everyone knew about you and Peggy Carter I imagine the assumption would be a female.”

“I was mated,” Steve confesses because this woman sees through him into his soul. “Peggy was amazing, the Omega I wish I could’ve been but even if we could’ve risked an infertile relationship in the 40s, I was mated and in love and I-“ He broke off. He looks down at his belly, caressing it in both hands now. Click. Click. Click. “I thought a day like this was impossible after the war.”

“I’m not a Cap historian but I know the basics. It was Barnes, wasn’t it?”

“Of course.”

She makes a humming noise and moves to a new angle then says, “No wonder you tried to kill yourself in the Valkyrie after he died.”

Steve feels breathless. She’s not wrong. It was a suicide mission, keyword being suicide. He’d known it when he got on the plane but no one, none of the Avengers or Coulson or Fury or even the historians who wrote thick tomes about his life, has ever come out and actually labeled it as what it was before.

“Hey, Steve don’t panic on me.”

“I’m not panicked. I’m just. I’m not like that.” Except for how he was, he had been right up until his baby boy had thrown his life into a new perspective.

“It’s okay,” Annie says gently. “I know what it’s like to lose the love of your life Steve. I was with Susan for twenty years. You would’ve had maybe five?”

“That we were mated, a little less.”

“Okay. There are still days I can’t get out of bed for missing her. My girls come in and they jump on me and they laugh and it gets me going but I can’t forget that Susan’s gone and sometimes, not often, but sometimes, I want to die just so I can be with her. I know how that feels. I can’t imagine having that feeling in a combat situation where dying isn’t theoretical.” Click. Click. Click.

Steve doesn’t realize he’s crying until one drips off his face. Click. He wipes it away with the heel of his hand. Click. He looks at Annie who is still looking but who also has shared something deeply personal with him. The set is empty (so we can get personal, Annie had declared) and maybe this is stupid but he’s going to do it anyway.

“Bucky’s the father.”

“What?”

“Barnes. He’s like me. He’s still alive. He’s the father.”

She actually lowers the camera and covers her mouth. “But- If he’s your mate-”

“They broke him, his mind,” Steve whispers and god this is so much easier with a stranger than it is with Nat or Sam or Tony. “The Russians then HYDRA. I mean what they did to his body is horrible but that’d be nothing if it weren’t-“ He takes a deep breath. “You know how soldiers can get PTSD in battle and forget things? Lose pieces?”

Annie nods. “I’ve worked with some veterans in a few photo shoots. The horror stories are pretty,” she shakes her head. “Well, horrific.”

“They forced him to forget. Physically. I don’t know. I just found some files but he only barely knows his own name when its bad. When it's bad, he could kill everyone I love without blinking.” Steve shudders out a sob. “I’m afraid something they did to him could force him to hurt the baby.”

Annie lifts her camera in question and Steve nods. Click. Click. Click at the raw pain on his face, in the slump of his huge shoulders, arms wrapped around his stomach.

“But then sometimes he comes to me and he’s my Bucky, my Alpha, and I kneel and it's everything it was. I’m not a hero, not Captain America, I’m just Steve Rogers, beloved Omega mate again, you know?” He gives her a watery smile. “Those times he’s so excited about the baby. We always wanted kids. Always.”

“So what do you do?” She asks, eyes wide behind her glasses.

“I don’t know.” Steve admits. Letting Natasha take over was all he could think of to do and he’s not sure it's the right thing to do but he can admit that it was the only thing to do. “Right now, I think I just wait. Be pregnant.”

“Well that’ll certainly take up your time,” she chuckles. He smiles back. Click. Click. Click. “Oh, and Steve?”

“Yes?”

“This is going to be amazing.”

“You’re not going to-“

“Tell? No. Part of my reputation is built on the things I can keep to myself. The key to portraiture is to get people to open up to you and if you go blabbing people’s personal business no one will open up and I have to tell you, you’re probably one of the most open subjects I’ve ever photographed.”

“Thank you?”

Annie gives him another smile, this the biggest one so far. “You are very welcome.”


	17. Cookies and Tea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wherein Steve just wants to go to his favorite cafe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who may not recall, Beth is the awesome waitress from Avengers who was nice to Steve and got interviewed at the end.
> 
> Having this week has made me inspired. I hope this is what will hold you over until I get another break.

“You and I both know that I don’t usually do this, but can I get your autograph?” Beth asks as she sets down a massive chocolate chip cookie literally the size of his face and an earl grey tea on his little table. She grins at him and holds up the Time Magazine. “I wouldn’t normally-“

“I know,” Steve assures her because he does. Beth has been his waitress at this cafe since before the Chitauri invasion. He could say that she was one of his first friends. She’s good people and sometimes when she’s on break, she’ll come sit with him and talk about school and the rest of the triad she’s involved with and just fill the air. He’d needed that desperately when he first woke up. Now it was just pleasantly friendly.

“But the pictures, Steve. They’re fantastic. You look beautiful.”

Steve ducks his head and blushes. “You’re just a big Beta flirt.”

She slides into the seat across from him, smiling. “Maaaybe. Steve, you could have all of them framed.” She glances at her watch. “It is now 12:22. I have until 12:37. Seriously they were so great. It captured the glow.”

“Caught me crying like a big baby.” The crying shot Annie had gotten was one of the more desperate ones, his arms at his side, looking off to the left, his face in profile, tear tracks shining in the light. If it were a picture of anyone else Steve would have thought it was a masterpiece. Mostly he just couldn’t look at it without hurting. The other pictures were great though. She caught him laughing, smiling, touching him stomach, slouched over. It didn’t look like any of the Cap shoots. They were just pictures of _him_. He loved them. 

“Hush. You were gorgeous and you know it,” Beth says. “Eat your cookie, Mommy. I got it for you special.” By which she means she paid for it and will not let him pay her back. She pushes the plate towards him. “Baby needs its sugar.”

“A friend of mine actually said I’m not supposed to have chocolate.” He’d nearly punched Clint in the face when he said that. Then he’d asked Bruce who’d waffled and talked about caffeine and Steve had gone sulk.

Beth laughs. “Oh come on. Those chips are tiny. The caffeine won’t hurt you that much. Your immune system will kill the bad stuff.”

She’s probably right and the cookie looks like heaven. There hadn’t been many sweets growing up so he and Bucky both had raging sweettooths. Having access to chocolate and sweet coffee any time he wanted was one of the best things about the future. Having to cut both was one of the worst symptoms of pregnancy. But for his baby, he’d do pretty much anything. 

But really Beth was right. There really weren’t many chips in this cookie. He takes a bite and Beth laughs. “Oh my god I wish I had been recording. Captain America’s orgasm noise would be a great Vine.”

Steve can feel the horrified expression cross his face. Beth laughs again. “You wouldn’t.”

“Of course not but you turn the funniest colors.” She glances at her watch. “Crap. I gotta go. Eat that whole thing, Steve I mean it. I’ll be back to check.” She smiles at him as she gets up and he smiles back as she goes. 

He’s picking at the cookie, thinkingabout how Beth is actually his only non-military or Avenger friend and maybe he should make an effort to spend time with her outside of his patronage of the cafe when the chair across from him scrapes on cement. He looks up.

“Nat?”

“Steve.” Nat nods and leans back in her seat. She doesn’t smile but she’s not frowning so nothing catastrophic has happened. She’s supposed to be in the field, going after Bucky so…something has happened. He just doesn’t know what nature of something.

“What’s up?” He holds up his plate. “Want some of my cookie?”

He’s not expecting her to actually take it but she snatches a good sized chunk off the half he has left and gives him a shadow of a smile. “Thanks.” She takes a bite like there’s nothing going on here, nothing at all. She makes a pleased face and takes another bite. “This could use milk but there’s not enough to excuse it is there?” she sighs.

“No problem. So. Things? How are they?”

“Had a nice vacation.” She says. “Prague is nice this year. Karkow was cloudy. Zagreb never gets credit for the great food. Coffee in Aleppo was to kill for.”

He stares at her. “To kill for.”

“The coffee,” she agrees. “You can’t do coffee can you?”

“Or cryptic crap. So unless you brought me back something shiny, lets skip to the end of your trip.” Steve doesn’t twitch but its all practice. He stays stoic but its nothing compared to Natasha’s poker face.

“I saw the Time shoot. It’s a global sensation. Even in countries that don’t like America or let their Omegas do things like, you know, drive,” she exhales and her nostril flare is the only sign of her anger. Steve knows that she’s allowing him to see that, as a privilege. 

“Which means what exactly?”

“It means your goddamn moron, Steve. Stop reminding people you’re pregnant. Stop flaunting that you are vulnerable. Stop reminding every country that hates us, and there are lot of them, not just ones that oppress their Omegas. We’re talking multiple countries on four of the seven continents. You are almost six months pregnant. Do you get that? Things you could survive could kill your son even if Bruce is right.”

“When did you talk to-“

She waves a hand at him. “Not the important point here, Steven.”

“What is the point?”

“The point is you’re a goddamn moron. I said that before I’m saying it again. Now, I’m going to get up. I’m going to the Tower. You’re going to have a brief meeting and then you’re going to join me in your living room. All told, it should take forty-five minutes including travel time.”

“Nat-“

“This is non-negotiable. I suggest you drink your tea. It’s getting cold.” She pushes back from the table and walks away. He watches her go, in awe of her, then picks up his tea and takes a sip. Its undoctored but its still good.

He shakes his head and glances down at the decimated cookie. Then a shadow falls over him. It doesn’t leave and Steve looks up, expecting a fan or maybe Beth and his breath stops.

The man somewhere between the soldier and his Bucky. His eyes dart around checking people, windows in the above them, the consummate sniper. He’s also smiling just a little. He has maybe three days of stubble and is wearing tack gear underneath a hoodie and ball cap but he’s smiling. He’s here.

He holds out his human hand and Steve takes it, breathless. “Bucky.”

“Hey,” he chokes out. “Nat says you and I should go.”

Steve fishes out his wallet, throws an extra twenty on the table as a tip for Beth and climbs to his feet. He’s nodding like those bobble head toys Tony showed him. A jolt of hope explodes through Steve when Bucky gently squeezes his hand as they walk together towards Avengers Tower.


	18. Love in an Elevator

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bucky and Steve are super inappropriate before they face the music. Heh. Get it? Cuz Aerosmiths song Love in an Elevator omg someone stop me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After seeing AoU I felt compelled to give Steve some love and also to bring in some Bucky. Also I have a paper do so NATURALLY I'm avoiding it :D Enjoy.

“You were crying,” Bucky/the Winter Soldier says softly, when they’re safely ensconced in the cocoon of the Avengers Tower elevator.

“What?”

“In those pictures. You were crying.” Bucky rubs his neck with his metal hand. “Natalia. She showed me. I- Stevie. I-“ The words “I’m sorry” are so obviously caught in the back of his throat. He’s trying like hell to say it but he’s choking on it. The Winter Soldier is stopping him. “I almost killed her in Turkey.”

“She mentioned Aleppo.”

“I had the shot.”

“I’ll just bet you did.”

“She walked right into it. Just sat down on this bench and opened up a magazine to a picture of you. You were crying. Steve, I nearly killed her anyway.”

“You didn’t.”

He hangs his head, like that's something to be ashamed of. “No.”

“Thank you.”

Bucky shrugs. “I didn’t do it for you.”

“But you didn’t do it,” Steve says because Natasha is a few floors up, perfectly fine, no hole through her brilliant brain. So obviously Bucky didn’t take the shot.

“I did it for me,” he says softly. “There’s…” He trails off.

“What?”

“I don’t know. I just knew that if I shot her I’d never get to go home. I didn’t do it because I was tired.”

It sounds so much like what Natasha told him about when she met Clint, about what Clint’s told him about meeting Phil. There’s something about the assassin life that wears. Steve is grateful to never have experienced it but he’s glad Bucky hit his breaking point before he killed one of Steve’s closest friends rather than after.

“You’re home now.” It’s all Steve has to offer. It seems a little hollow. Avengers Tower was never _their_ home together. 

“Is that what this is?”

“It will be,” Steve promises. He takes Bucky’s flesh and blood hand and puts it on his belly. It’s the first time he’s let someone other than Dr. Javed touch him there since he found out he was having a boy. “We will be.”

Bucky shivers but doesn’t move his hand. He stares down at it with wonder and no small measure of fear.

“We’re going to have a son, Buck. We’re going to be a family. We can make our own home.”

“It’s a boy?”

“Yeah. I like James for him. So many nickname options. I’m leaning towards Jamie.”

“Steve.”

“And I like the idea of naming him after his father.”

“Steve.”

“And considering I have to push him out of my body I get to pick.”

“Okay,” Bucky says softly. He looks over and sees his face, wan and strained. He squeezes Bucky’s hand again but Bucky doesn’t squeeze back.

“Hey, Buck, hold me for awhile okay. Just until the elevator stops.” Steve says. 

It’s not an order, he doesn't want to know how the Asset will react to an order, but its not a question either. Bucky nods and pulls him in, releasing his hand to wraps his human arm around Steve’s back. Steve winds both arms around Bucky’s shoulders and tries to ignore the way Bucky leaves his left arm hanging dead at his side. 

He breathes his Alpha’s smell deep and hums. The aches in his joints actually ease a little at the scent. It’s all biology, pheromones and mate scent markers and pregnancy hormones mixing together in a way Steve barely understands. He doesn’t really need to though, not when he can feel it.

“Dear God, you smell so good,” Bucky groans. “I could have you right here.”

“Bucky I’m-”

“Don’t say pregnant. That just makes it better. You smell goddamn ripe, baby doll.”

Steve smiles. He loves to hear Bucky’s voice, Bucky’s words. No trace of the Winter Soldier in his want.

“Not sure this is the time or place.”

“Yeah.” Bucky agrees. “Sorry. I didn’t- Sorry.”

But Bucky feels so right. Just being so close to him is making Steve’s body light up. The bond high is already starting and in another few moments he’ll probably start leaking. He’s the king of waiting to long so he decides screw it. Seriously. Fucking screw it all.

“JARVIS?”

“Yes, Captain Rogers?”

“Stop the elevator. Set all monitoring settings to private.”

“Of course, sir. I’ll notify Agent Romanov that you’ll be a bit late.”

“Thank you,” Steve says. 

He pulls out of the embrace, turns and drops his maternity pants. He wants this. He wants this so fucking badly. He’s can feel himself getting wet for Bucky, just like he always does and he wants his alpha’s come inside him, soothing and secure, full like he should be. He plants his hands on the wall and spreads his legs as far as they’ll go with his pants still around his ankles and bends at the waist, presenting. 

He turns and looks at Bucky who’s eyes are wide over his shoulder. He feels too desperate to smile. “Fuck me, Alpha.”

“Omega,” Bucky growls. “My Omega.” His teeth sink into the bond bite, drawling blood and Steve shouts. It hurts so good, so right. His Alpha is reclaiming him. He belongs again. 

When Bucky pries his mouth away he wrenches Steve’s chin back with his right hand so they can kiss. He tastes blood on Bucky’s tongue and licks it up.

Steve loses himself in the kiss until he feels Bucky enter him. He whines into his mates mouth and braces himself to take the first brutal thrust. He’s a super soldier. He can more than take it. He wants it, dirty and fast just like this, his body’s lubrication slicking the way for his mate’s cock.

They are feral. Mates rutting together like the animals they are deep down. They can’t kiss anymore, just breathing into each other’s mouths, panting out each time Bucky bottoms out, his hips smacking against the curve of Steve’s ass loudly in the small space.

Bucky comes first, his come hot and wet inside Steve. He can feel it filling him up and it’s feels so satisfying it brings actual tears to his eyes. The stretch of the knot stings but he loves it. He clenches on it as Bucky rocks into him, pulsing inside him, rubbing his prostate until he comes too, making a mess of Tony’s elevator. He could care less.

Standing together, gasping, they wait for Bucky’s knot to go down. Bucky wraps his human arm around Steve’s waist and pets his stomach. “My baby,” he whispers. “God, Stevie, this is so messed up.”

Steve reaches to hold onto the back of of Bucky’s neck. His fingers tangle in soft oily hair as he cradles his mate’s nape. “I know.”

“I’m going to end up in a locked room. They’ll probably sedate me too if they know what’s good for them.”

“That won’t happen.”

“Steve, please.”

“I won’t let it happen.”

“You may not be able to stop it,” Bucky murmurs against his throat.

“Fucking watch me.”

Bucky has nothing to say to that. His knot has shrunk enough by then for him to pull out and they clean up as best they can. Steve watches as Bucky shuts down from the inside out. 

It’s the first time he’s ever seen Bucky consciously allow the Winter Soldier to come forward but he can’t blame him. What they’re going to face is something Bucky isn’t trained to cope with. The Winter Soldier dealt with nothing but hostile forces. It’s safer this way for him.

“So, here we go I guess,” Steve says, reaching out for Bucky’s hand. He doesn’t take it.

Steve sighs. The elevator restarts its upward climb.


	19. Touching Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which everyone knows how the situation is going to be handled except Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SCHOOL IS OUT! Hopefully I will be able to write more. If there are any neuroscientists in the crowd, I apologize if I got the details on the brain wrong. I did the best I could with the information available to me on the internet. I am in social sciences for a reason :D Sorry this isnt betaed. i figured you want it sooner rather than later.

Turns out Bucky’s not wrong about the cell. He’s wrong about everything else. There are no cuffs no sedatives no guards. There’s just JARVIS and the cell is actually just a guest floor of Avengers Tower restricted elevator and stair access.

Bucky looks Natasha right in the eye. “You know I can get out through those windows.”

“Yes,” she says coolly. “And JARVIS will have drones surrounding you before you hit the ground, and that's if you jump. If you climb down-” She shrugs.

“I’m not trying to die.”

“I hope not,” she says then glances up Steve. Her eyes give away nothing. “You’ve got everything to live for.”

“You said that when you brought me in.”

“Still true.” She waves a hand at the couch. “Have a seat.”

Bucky sits, robotically and when Steve goes to join him it is Natasha who shakes her head. “Steve, I think you should go.”

“Why so you can torture the information you want out of my mate?” He folds his arms over his now tender chest. “It’s not happening.”

“I am not going to torture him.”

“But you would.”

“Oh absolutely.”

He gapes at her. “And you’re just going to tell me that.”

“I’d tell you because you’d need to be detained before we did anything,” she explained. 

“Makes sense to me,” Bucky adds in and Steve flushes hot with anger.

“Don’t support this. Don’t you dare.”

“Don’t act like anything she could do is worse than what’s already happened, Steve. Please. It’s a cute lie none of us needs.”

Natasha actually looks offended. “I think you’re underestimating me.”

“I think you’re overestimating yourself. You’re a white hat now. There are things you won’t do that that HYDRA would. If you won’t do them, you will never cross the lines I've been dragged over.”

Steve can actually hear her exhale through her nose. The look on their faces are exactly the same. They could be siblings. They have the same soul. It is so horrifying that he is both dying to and never wants to know what knowledge they are sharing without words.

“I hope that means you’ll cooperate,” she says. “What we have planned for you shouldn't hurt but it won’t be easy.”

Bucky doesn't even shrug. He just stares them both down. Or maybe he’s staring at the wall. Steve can’t tell. Bucky’s gone cold.

“Steve, if you’d excuse us, Bucky needs to be debriefed and then he’s going to sleep.”

“Told you,” he whispers. “Sedative.”

“You don’t need to sedate him.”

“We do actually.” That’s from Bruce who’s appeared behind him. “We need to find out what damage has been done to him physically before the professor gets here.” He turns to Bucky now. “Given what we know, we can’t afford to risk you conscious in a medical facility without the proper triggers.”

Bucky points a metal finger at him. “You’re the big green one. You destroyed Harlem.”

Bruce flushes. “Yes. But the Harlem part was an accident.”

“Collateral damage,” Bucky says mildly.

“We’re trying to avoid that here,” Nat says. “Which is why after I debrief you, you’re going to take an eighteen hour nap.”

“I don’t like this.”

“No one cares what you like or don’t like at this point, Steve,” Bucky snaps, his body maintaining that unnerving sniper stillness. “They’re clearly already bending over backwards for you because lets be honest, this place, its not because they like me.”

“No,” Bruce agrees. “It’s not.”

“Bruce,” Natasha says, “Why don’t you take Steve for a walk around the tower, show him what we’re going to be doing so he can calm down.”

“Good idea.”

When Bruce tries to take his arm Steve breaks free and crosses the room to Bucky. He takes his face in both hands, bends at the waist and kisses him. It’s slow and chaste but still Bucky, still mate, still love. He’s decided, after last time, he’s never leaving without saying goodbye to Bucky again. Just in case.

“I love you,” Steve says. “I trust them and I’ll be there when you wake up. I swear on my mother’s grave, Buck.”

“Big talk, there.”

“I swear on our baby’s life.”

Bucky’s eyes spark then go out. “Don’t do that.”

“I’ll be there when you wake up.”

“Okay.”

Steve doesn’t believe him. He tilts his chin up. “Okay?”

“Yeah okay, all right, already.”

“See you soon.” Steve promises and this time lets himself be lead out.

Bruce takes him to the medical R&D floor and walks him through everything. He and Tony have been working with a Korean scientist named Dr. Cho who can do amazing things with regenerating tissue ( “She might even be able to grow Bucky a new arm some day. That sort of work is her goal, long term.”) so everything is state of the art and the MRI and CT scans are small and 3D. 

“And you’re going to look inside his brain with that, like an X-ray?” X-rays had been around since before he was born. He had a good handle on that concept at least.

“Like a really amazing X-ray,” Bruce agrees, “That lets us see tissue and cells rather than just bones and gaps.”

“And you think you’re going to find something in his head?”

“Nothing like a microchip or nanobots but given the specs of the memory erasure techniques on him?” Bruce rubs the back of his neck. “I expect extensive damage. I honestly don’t know how he’s not a vegetable. No other subject survived more than three or four times undergoing what he went through and he was wiped dozens maybe hundreds of times.” Bruce sighs and leans against a table. He looks down at it and taps it in a a few places and a hologram of the brain appears in the air. “Usually they’d get a brain bleed here, in the amygdala.” he points at the air and the brain is sliced open and showed the little round points in the brain that don’t look like much of anything.

“Do you know why?”

“Helen, Tony and I are pretty sure it’s because of what we use it for. We make different memories in different places. The hippocampus, the squiggle attached? That's where spacial learning is. Skills. The kind of thing you wouldn’t want a soldier to forget.” He waves a hand at the projection. “But the amygdala is where memories about life are made. Things that you keep because your emotions tell you too - the good, the bad, everything that matters to your heart - that's your amygdala.”

“And they burned it out.”

“In essence, yes. That’s what we’re expecting to find.”

Steve thought he knew how bad it could be. He was wrong. God, he was so wrong. “Oh.”

“We also think he’s healing,” Bruce adds. “It’s the only explanation for why he’d remember you, particularly to the degree he is. Betty did some work in her Master’s program on mate scenting and Alzheimer's and it was really promising. It wasn’t her area of focus, she was just a research assistant, but her adviser saw real retention in patients who were exposed to their mate’s scent and the development of permanent new memory held twice as long as in patients without a mate.”

Steve laughs. “So my smell is healing him.”

“I think it started it, probably back in DC. For a such a common process, we’re shockingly ignorant about what all is involved in the biochemical changes for mate pairs, to what extent it can really go. Some couples have even claimed telepathy although I’m convinced those reports were from at least one half a couple with an X-gene or otherwise Enhanced. The point is, I don’t think you’re healing him, but I think you’re helping.”

Steve felt so tired. Pregnancy tired and heart tired and brain tired. Just tired. He wanted to curl up around his mate and go to sleep. “What else can I do?”

“Nothing at this point. Just try and trust us.”

“Try.”

“Yeah. Try.”

“I’m going back upstairs now.”

“Natasha should have him sedated by now so that should be alright. JARVIS will be monitoring you for your safety.”

“I don’t have choice in that do I?”

Bruce gives him a rueful smile. “Nope. House consensus. Even Thor agreed before he went back to Asgard.”

“Well gee, wouldn’t want to upset Thor.”

“Nope. Come on,” Bruce says, holding out his arm like the gentleman he was. “I’ll walk you home.”


	20. Free Your Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve meets Professor Charles Xavier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a short chapter but I thought you guys would like something rather than nothing. :D School is crazy and I just got a job and a volunteer position and an internship but it somehow kickstarted my muse? IDK. Life is great. ILU all. I will never abandon this. I swear.

Professor Charles Xavier is a bald man in is eighties who glides into the tower in an electronic wheelchair. He has an air of calm about him that is so palpable it is almost physical. Steve is drawn to him instantly. Of course the fact that he is practically a peer doesn’t hurt.

“Captain,” Professor Xavier says, his accent British and cultured, “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“Likewise Professor,” Steven says smiling broadly. “Please, call me Steve.”

“And you must call me Charles. We’ll be working closely after all.” His own smile is warm and causes his wrinkles to deepen. He would have been twelve or thirteen during the war. Steve itches to ask him about it, where he was, what he remembers. He doesn’t. What it was like living through the years that Steve missed, that Peggy couldn’t remember. Now isn’t the time. 

“Sure, Charles. So, what do you need from me?”

“To be quite honest, if you’d allow me a glimpse into your mind at your history with Sergeant Barnes, that would be quite helpful. Then I will know what I’m looking for within his mind when I see it.” He steeples his fingers. “Obviously your experiences and his will not line up exactly but the intersections will make it much easier for me to navigate his mind.” 

Steve goes rigid and Charles laughs. 

“The idea frightens you.”

“Bucky’s really the only experience I’ve had with any kind of mind probing and-“ 

“And look how that turned out,” Charles finished for him. “The difference between what I do and what they did is the difference between performing surgery with a baseball bat verses a laser scalpel.” He quirks an eyebrow. “In this analogy I assure you I am the laser scalpel.”

“That shouldn’t be comforting.” Steve says.

“And yet it is,” Charles observes. Steve feels his hackles rise but Charles raises a pacifying hand. “Your mind is very strong; you project your emotions. It’s a bit like overhearing conversation from another room. I’d have to block everything to block projected thought.” He smiles. “I promise I’m not digging yet.”

Steve shifts from foot to foot. They’re in front of the elevator on his floor, and wow is it it awkward. He plants a hand on his stomach, a quick and unnecessary check in with his baby boy, and Charles’s smile widens.

“How is your son?”

“You know its a boy?”

He taps his forehead. “You thought it rather loudly.”

“Oh. Well, yeah. He’s good - healthy. They think the fact that I’m pregnant is going to help anchor Bucky to the present.”

“I read some of the studies on scent and memory when Tony contacted me for this case,” Charles agreed. “I think in this case it’s going to be a great asset. I’m going to want you present for all of our exploration. I think your presence is going to be greatly calming.” He smiles gently. “You’re a very lucky man, Steve. Not many people get a second chance at a lost mate.” He says this last with a nostalgia that sounds bone deep.

“Speaking from experience professor?”

“A bit,” he says sadly. “I only had few months with my mate, not counting a few encounters here and there over the years. We had no children.” He rubs the back of his neck with his hand. “Of course our situation was our own doing. Friendly fire, you understand. Erik and I are still bonded but we could never find level ground. It’s not the same as having your partner taken from you.” His smile is sad now as well. “You have a chance I doubt I ever will.”

“I’m so sorry.” 

Charles waves a hand. “Please, don’t be. As I said, we brought it upon ourselves. Now, if you’re ready,” he brings two fingers to his temple. 

Steve nods. “I’m ready.”

He waves at the couch. “Have a seat if you would. I don’t want to overwhelm you and knock you off your feet in your condition.”

“I can take a fall.”

“I’m quite sure you can but there’s no reason you should if you don’t have to.”

It’s a good point. So Steve settles himself on his sofa and takes a deep breath. 

“Very good Steve. Try to relax. This won’t hurt. Now, if you would, close your eyes and think of Bucky.”

That’s easy. He tips his head back against the couch. He lets images of Bucky as he last saw him, small and scared for a man he always saw as such a big presence. From there the images cascade over him like an avalanche - Bucky scrawny and twelve, giving Steve a hand up after a fight and helping him limp home, Bucky at sixteen, filling out and beautiful and smelling like summer and sex all Alpha strength. Bucky taking him, taking him hard and fast in his heat and Steve crying underneath him small and fragile but desperate and eager. Bucky with his head on Steve’s chest in a sticky summer, twenty-three, talking about all the kids they’re going to adopt from St. Marys, how it doesn’t matter that they can’t have their own, Steve’s still going to be the best mom on the block. Bucky in his uniform, sad-eyed and reticent; “I love you, babydoll. Don’t do anything stupid until I get back.” “How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” Bucky on that table in Azzano, mumbling is serial number, over and over, incoherent and tortured. Bucky on his stomach in the dirt in Austria, his eye to a sniper scope, stone still and deadly beautiful. Bucky falling falling falling from the train. “Who the hell is Bucky.” Bucky in the damaged HYDRA base months ago, scenting his heat and charging, slamming him back against the pylon and growling “Babydoll,” against his neck a half a second before tore Steve’s clothes off with both his hands. Bucky lifting him by the hips and-

“Stop,” Steve gasps because that’s too much. He can’t give someone the conception of his son. He just can’t. It’s private. It’s precious.

“Of course,” Xavier concedes, lowering his hand. “I understand. You’ve already given me a good deal to work with. Thank you.”

Steve gives him a strained smile. “Just- Help Bucky.”

“I will. I promise.”


	21. Sleeping Dogs Lying

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Before Bucky wakes up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New job + down time = short chapter. Please forgive the extremely handwavey brain science. I made a lot of it up to suit my purposes. Hope you enjoy it.

Bruce waiting for them when they arrive on Bucky’s floor via the secure elevator. He and Charles exchange pleasantries and professional fanboying for a solid five minutes before Steve is ready to crawl out of his skin. He clears his throat loudly and they turn and face him, both looking chagrined. 

“My apologies, Steve,” Charles says. “Dr. Banner’s research is something of a pet project of a friend of mine. Hank underwent a transformation of his own due to experimentation and as much as ordered me to grill Dr. Banner about his experiences but that can wait.”

“Yeah, sorry Steve.” Bruce gave him a sheepish look. “He’s still sleeping but he’ll be coming out of it soon. Natasha’s on watch.”

“Take me to him,” Steve ordered. “I promised I’d be there when he woke up.”

“Of course.” He beckons with a wave hand and they follow him down a hallway into a bedroom not dissimilar to to Steve’s own. However, the bed frame is metal, bolted to the ground, and Bucky is magcuffed to the it. Steve feels a wave of nausea crash over him that has nothing to do with morning sickness.

“There were supposed to be no restraints,” he chokes out.

“When we see who he wakes up as, we can discuss removing the restraints,” Natasha replies sharply. “You said yourself that he’s been in and out of coherency. We can’t know who we’re dealing with until he regains consciousness. We warned you this wouldn’t be Steve.” There’s no sign in her calm expression of stress or strain. It’s only because he knows that she cares that he knows this pains her. “You can leave if you can’t take it.”

“He can’t feel anything at the moment, Steve,” Charles cut in. “His mind is a blank. ” He taps his temple. “I’ll be keeping tabs on his mental state the entire time. If there’s any distress, you’ll be the first to know.”

Steve has known Charles all of four hours and thinks he may already love him. 

“The sedative should wear off in approximately thirty-minutes though which is about enough time to tell you what we found.” Bruce says. “Dr. Cho did most of the work. Security is the only reason she isn’t here to explain it to you herself.”

“Which isn’t to say she didn’t try,” Natasha adds with a small smile. It makes Steve feel incrementally better. This Dr. Cho must be a good apple if Nat likes her. “But she, unlike some people I know, was willing to listen to reason.”

“I’m being perfectly reasonable,” Steve replies, trying his best not to be snappish.

“Children,” Charles says gently, “If we could focus on matter at hand.”

“Yes,” Bruce agrees, taking off his glasses, polishing them quickly on the tail of his purple button down shirt and sliding them back up his nose. “What we found.”

Steve sits down on the edge of Bucky’s bed, close enough that his hip is touching Bucky’s. Then he looks expectantly up at Bruce.

“We were right about the brain damage. It’s more extensive than we would have hoped for although it seems to have been targeted which, given his skill set, isn’t really that surprising. However, there appears to have been significant recent regrowth of brain cells over the scar tissue in all the damaged areas, particularly the amygdala.”

Steve lets out a slow breath. When he doesn’t feel so much like screaming anymore he asks, “Which means what?”

“It means he’s very likely going to be able to make and retain new memories easily which is good. Damage to that area of the brain often effects long-term memory, ” Bruce says on a little sigh. “However we don’t have a baseline on the scar tissue so we don’t know how much of it has healed already. The cross section showed that there is healthy tissue still in existence but its surrounded by scar tissue. It’s a bit like a peanut M&M if the peanut were the health tissue, the chocolate was the scar tissue, the candy coating was the new tissue and the peanut were very, very small.” He cleans his glasses again. “Helen said she’s never seen anything like it which isn’t particularly surprising. What was done to him has never been done before or since.”

“Which means what?” Steve prompts again, trying to keep his anger in check. He’s never been a patient guy but this is Bruce. Gentle, kind Bruce who turns into a giant, city destroying monster when provoked so he keeps a leash on it. 

“It means we’re mostly in the dark.” Bruce admits. “His serum will probably help. You will help. However, this isn’t a concussive trauma or a general electric shock. This was targeted and repeated over the course of nearly a century. He should probably be dead or in a persistent vegetative state. He’s not. We pretty much need to take our miracles as they come.”

“And that’s not taking into account the psychological trauma he went through that you can’t see on a scan,” Natasha adds. Her eyes are flinty and her lips thin and pale. “Sometimes the damage doesn’t have to be physical to be deep.” 

“That’s what I’m here for,” Charles says, again warm and soothing. “I have experience navigating broken minds and unearthing lost memories. I truly believe I can help work with what exists.”

“I just don’t want you to get your hopes up to high,” Bruce says, folding his arms across his chest. “The physical damage is extensive, Steve. Professor Xavier will only be able to do so much.”

“That’s better than nothing,” Steve says desperately. “I need my mate back and I have to believe that it’s going to happen. I can’t afford anything less.”

“Hope isn’t a bad thing,” Bruce replies, “I just want you to keep your expectations realistic.”

Steve drags a hand over his face. “I don’t think I even know what that means anymore.”

“It means the Winter Soldier isn’t going anywhere for a long time,” Natasha chimes in, hands planted firmly on her hips. “So don’t expect him to be gone and don’t expect the man you love to magically reappear just because you want him to.”

“I don’t.”

“It’s not me you need to stop lying to, Steve,” she says, softer this time. “I’m not the one with an emotional investment in the man James used to be.”

It takes all of Steve’s considerable self-control not to flinch back at that. He’s not lying to himself. He’s just hopeful. That’s all. He’s got a baby on the way and a miracle lying on the bed. He has every reason to keep up hope. “Tasha-“

“As riveting as this debate is,” Charles cuts in, “Our young man is waking up. I suggest we all prepare ourselves.”

Steve jerks around. He can’t begin to imagine how to prepare himself for what comes next.


	22. Come Back With Your Shield or Upon It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Charles Xavier works towards a solution for the problem of the Winter Soldier.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I lost faith in this story yall. I let other people's opinions of the way I chose to write scare me into a corner. Then [shinelikethunder](http://archiveofourown.org/users/tenlittlebullets/pseuds/shinelikethunder>shinelikethunder) wrote a post about allowing yourself to write what you want to write and it pulled me out of the hole. 
> 
> After ten months, I am back you. Summer vacation is HERE and Age of Ultron and Civil War have both happened which will influence this but not change my plans and I got my groove back(kinda). 
> 
> So. Thank you to [shinelikethunder](http://archiveofourown.org/users/tenlittlebullets/pseuds/shinelikethunder>shinelikethunder) for [writing the post that saved me from myself.](https://shinelikethunder.tumblr.com/post/105868827391/more-musings-on-writing-advice-honestly-i-think). And thank you to the brilliant, magical, caring, creative [Errant Tumbleweed](http://archiveofourown.org/users/cryogenia/pseuds/An%20Errant%20Tumbleweed) for basically holding my hand, putting me back on track and rewiring my brain. I could not possibly have done it without you. Not in a million years. Thank you both so much. 
> 
> Also, to anyone who still cares about this story? Thank you too. I'm glad you're still reading. I love each and every single one of you and I'll reply to your comments ASAP! :D

Bruce excuses himself before they start. Once he's gone Charles takes a look at the magcuffs and raises an eyebrow. “You could remove them. I can control him if becomes violent.” Charles says and Natasha shakes his head.

“It’s better he remain restrained than you control his mind.” She exhales. “You going in to heal him is one thing but he’s had enough people messing with his mind. He doesn’t need anymore. ”

A little of Steve’s anger at her seeps away at that. She’s been cold since they took Bucky into custody but she _is_ protecting them, in her way.

“Ah, that was thoughtless of me. My apologies,” Charles replies ducking his head. “However, I do think it’d be wise to remove his cuffs. Between you, Steve and the presence of both Iron Man and Dr. Banner in the building, I don’t think he can do too much damage.”

She sighs. “You’re wrong about that.” But she steps over and removes them anyway. She sets them on the floor next to the bed. She doesn’t step away, instead lingering at the foot the mattress ready to move at the slightest provocation, tension in every line of her body. Steve is struck by the memory of a bullet scar in her stomach and reminds himself that she has every right to be concerned. The danger the Winter Soldier presents is very real. 

He's drawn back into the moment by Bucky’s eyelids fluttering. Steve holds his breath as two chips of blue ice are revealed - cold as a Siberian winter. Bucky is definitely not home. 

He says something in Russian and Natasha replies, shaking her head. He repeats it, sounding agitated and she answers him again, casting her eyes up at Steve and Charles worriedly. Steve doesn’t know much Russian but he recognizes the Russian word for “no” easily enough. What every she’s saying, the Winter Soldier doesn’t like it.

“He wants to know who he is to provide his mission report to,” Natasha says, frowning. “I told him there is no mission but he doesn’t believe me. He just said there is always a mission.”

“Does he understand us as he is right now?” Steve asks.

“Of course,” Charles says, with that same gentle smile. He and Bruce should have a zen off for how serene the man manages to be under pressure. “So perhaps it would be better to talk to you, soldier?”

The Winter Soldier juts his chin up but acknowledges the Professor. It’s progress.

Charles smiles. “Excellent. I’ll admit, I was concerned you would be unresponsive. It’s so much easier when everyone’s fully involved. So, lets start with some basics. Do you know where you are?”

The Winter Solder gives a single slow nod. Steve holds his breath, waiting but that seems to be it. Charles face remains a gentle mask.

“Would you mind telling me where that is, please?”

“Avengers Tower.” 

“Good. And do you know why you’re here?”

He says something in Russian to Natasha. She replies in rapid, terse sentences that are clipped like razor blades. He nods in response then looks up at Charles. “I am awaiting debrief and new mission parameters.”

“Ah.” Charles brows furrow. With no hair, it makes his entire forehead turn into a valley of rippling dips and mountains. His disquiet is much easier to read than the blank slate of the Winter Soldiers face. “And do you know what your mission is or are you here to receive a new mission?”

That, Steve thinks, is a very good question. He doesn’t know if it would have occurred to him to ask that. Then again, Charles can read minds and though he was probably just a kid when Steve was running around the Western Front, he does have at least fifty years of life experience on almost everyone in the room. You can’t really buy that kind of wisdom.

When he answers, the Winter Soldier isn’t looking at Charles anymore but at Steve, meeting his gaze dead-on. “You. You’re my mission.”

The last time Steve heard those words, they broke his heart. Now, the words cause the sensation of crushing force in his chest as they squeeze that fractured muscle back together. The feeling makes it very hard to breathe or talk or do anything but stare at his mate and hope.

Natasha is thankfully unmoved and has the wherewithal to actually respond to that with something other than a moony expression and a waifish gasp. Steve expects nothing less from her. "If he's your mission, where have you been? Why do you keep going off the grid? Typical mission parameters require follow through, not intermittent contact."

He locks his eyes with Natasha. "Mission safety is paramount," the Winter Soldier replies hoarsely. "Proximity doesn't always facilitate safety."

"So, what I'm hearing you say is that you want to protect Steve here, but you also want to feel safe while doing it," Charles cuts in. 

"Active listening, Professor?" Natasha raises an eyebrow. "Really?"

"I find it very effective. So. Is that right, soldier? You need to feel safe."

"Be safe," he corrects. "Feelings are inconsequential. If I present a danger to the mission, I can't complete the mission. It's…" He frowns. It's a very Bucky-ish frown. "Challenging." 

"Downright paradoxical," Charles agrees, almost cheerfully. "I can see how this would pose a problem for you. I think I have an idea but why don't you tell me, what, exactly, do you need to do to be safe around your mission?"

"Violence," the Winter Soldier replies. His response is clipped and even and unbothered. Steve is more than a little unnerved by the fact that he loses control and hurts people isn't the problem so much as the violation of mission parameters but then, this is just one side of Bucky, the side they need to harness. If they can do that, they can get his Bucky back too. They can start moving forward.

"Not memory? Not control over your…moods shall we call them?" Charles offers even though he clearly knows that the Winter Soldier is going to refuse them. Steve doesn't know why he even brought them up. Still, he stays quiet because Charles obviously knows what he's doing, at least to some degree.

Natasha, on the other hand, does not seem as patient. "For fuck's sake, he just said-"

"I asked him, Ms. Romanov, not you. If you would please, do him the courtesy of not interrupting?" His glare is one-hundred-percent school teacher. Sure, it's been almost a century since Steve's had a look like that aimed at him but he remembers it's power. Turns out the Professor title isn't just honorary if the way Natasha frowns and goes quiet is anything to judge from. 

They wait for a full minute while the silence stretches on. Finally unable to stand the quiet anymore, Steve cracks and asks, “Bucky? What do you need to stay with me?"

Blue eyes finally meet Steve's. They aren't blank so much as tired, exhausted even. They aren't sad because Steve isn't sure that the Winter Soldier knows how to experience sadness but there is a soul-deep weariness in his gaze that belongs to every side of Bucky. To Steve it’s clear that all of him just wants to come home.

"Involuntary violence is unacceptable," he tells Steve finally. “If I can hurt the mission or non-critical targets unintentionally, then I’m unfit for close quarters recon and engagement.”

“An off-switch would be good then,” Charles observes. He gives Steve a small smile. “A shield as it were, protecting everyone else from you.”

That has all of their attention. Charles is practically beaming. Yeah, this is a man who flourishes at the center of attention. He’s here to help, definitely, but Steve is suddenly sure that this man loves to put on a show as much as any Stark. His shows just play out differently.

“What would that involve?” Steve asks. He knows Charles is a psychic but he doesn’t know much about what that means. All he knows are what he read in the dime-store fantasy novels Bucky used to read when they were kids and this was never one of the topics he was interested in. 

“Just like I said,” Charles replies evenly. “It would be about creating shields.” He turns his chair a bit so that the Winter Soldier can get a better look at him. “My dear boy, do you know who I am?” They watch Bucky look at Charles and nod once. Charles gives him a warm smile. “I thought as much. What did your previous…employers…tell you about what I could do?”

“Charles Francis Xavier, Ph.D. Son of Brian and Sharon Xavier. Age eighty-seven. Known mutant. Designation psionic. Suspected abilities include mind reading, memory manipulation, mind control, perception manipulation, and offensive psychic attacks. Approach target via stealth only,” he recites like he’s reading a list. He probably is.

“Hm. Not bad. Missing a few things but that means my team is doing our job, doesn’t it? What you need to know is that your assessment is both correct and woefully incomplete. I can do all those things.” Then the tone of his voice changes; the lightness and amusement is gone. “I can do much more. I can do things none of you can imagine, things you wouldn’t want to and I am sure you more than anyone here has quite the imagination.”

The seriousness in his voice feels like a building sitting on Steve’s chest. He can’t imagine what it must feels like for the Winter Soldier or Bucky, or whoever is in the now tense body on the bed. 

“With that in mind, I am offering is to place a block between your body and the parts of your mind you cannot control. Like the Hippocratic Oath - you shall do no harm. Your involuntary responses will not allow you to, no matter what the programing or conditioning or reflexes tell you to. As I said - a shield, both stronger and infinitely more malleable than the Captain’s, one that I would put in place and, at a later time when you have regained more control, remove.”

“Remaining permanently defenseless is not an option. What if you die before you can take it out?” the Winter Soldier asks. 

Charles laughs. He actually laughs and Steve tries not to feel hurt or insulted or both. Both. He’s going to go with both. He clenches his fists.

“Such an excellent question. My colleague, Dr. Grey, is an excellent telepath. Her current skill level is nowhere near mine and it would take multiple sessions for her to undo my work but she could do it, should something happen to me before you choose to remove it. There is also at least one…private contractor Mr. Stark is likely aware of who could take the shield down. However, they are less than reliable and again, it would take multiple sessions.”

That seems to be enough for the Winter Soldier. He nods and folds his hands on his chest, funeral style. Steve looks at Natasha who looks back with a worried expression of her own. 

“Would you like me to proceed then?” Charles asks when he doesn’t move.

“Yes.”

“Bucky,” Steve interrupts, moving so that he is hip to hip with his mate. “Bucky, hey, are you sure? I mean, he’s going to root around in your head and he’s not even going to fix anything.” He turns to Charles. “I didn’t miss the part where you’re going to heal him right?”

Charles shakes his bald head. “You did not. I know what your expectations were going into this, and it will likely come later but at the moment, that isn't our focus”

“See? He’s just…muzzling you. Are you sure this is what you want?”

He isn’t expecting it when that cold left hand lifts to cup his cheek. He shivers at the touch but he doesn’t even flinch. It feels so good to be touched like this by his mate that he is taken aback when he says “I could break you with this.” He runs the mechanical thumb over Steve’s cheekbone to emphasize the point. 

“No. I can handle it.”

“Before,” he agrees, then he drops his hand to the gentle curve where their baby grows. “Not now.” The Winter Soldier is beseeching him with aching eyes. “Let me fulfill my mission.”

“Okay.” Steve whispers, covering the weapon hand again. “Okay. If thats what you want.”

The soldier shakes his head. “It’s what’s required.” 

Steve nods. He hates it, hates it so much but he’ll take it and he’ll give it and he’ll do fucking anything he has to for Bucky to be home. “Okay. You got it.”

Steve watches as he shifts his attention to Charles and says, “No harm?”

“Indeed.”

“But not for the Spider.”

Charles frowns, a furrow appearing in his wrinkled brow at his confusion. “Beg pardon?”

“Me,” Natasha says, actually smiling now. “He means me. Don’t include me in your spell or whatever it is you’re doing. He wants to be able to come for me if I become a threat to his mate and his child.”

Steve feels sick. Natasha would never- She was his family, as much as anyone in this time was. “Hey, it’s okay. She’s on our side, Buck.” 

But he knows the set of that jaw. And people said he was the stubborn one. 

 

Charles blanched for the first time in this whole mess. “I’m not sure if-“

“It’s more than fair,” Natasha says. “He knows what I can do as well as I know him. Probably better. I’d want the same thing in his position.” She nods at Charles. “I’m fine with it.”

“All right then.” He doesn’t ask if they’re sure. He simply lifts two fingers to his temples and closes his eyes. Steve watches Bucky’s face. His eyes close too but thats all. Nothing else seems to move or change in the room. All of their heartbeats and breathing are steady and even.

He does his best to keep count in his head, one thousand, two thousand, two thousand five hundred, and then familiar eyes open. Bucky isn’t behind them. He’s not magically back but he’s relaxed like he hasn’t before.

“Hey,” Steve says with a smile. “How you feeling?”

Before Steve can blink, Bucky’s moved. T here was hardly a struggle as his punch landed and Natasha’s head cracked against the carpet. Before Steve can react, the Winter Soldier has her pinned to the floor with his metal hand wrapped tightly around her throat. He doesn’t go to them though, because she has a gun to his head, a gun he didn’t see her carrying. Steve has no idea how the hell this happened but it makes him want to fucking cry. Goddamn hormones, he wasn’t a crier. 

“Children, do you need a time out?” Charles asks, amused again.

“He started it,” Natasha says with a smirk as the Winter Soldier climbs off her. She clicks the safety on with with her thumb as if in agreement of an unspoken truce. 

Steve watches as the gun disappears and Bucky moves towards Charles with an open right palm. He tilts his head in question. Charles nods. “Go ahead. Give it a try.”

It’s going to be a slap, or a smack or something else small but Bucky’s hand freezes in mid-air, a half inch above Charles’ shoulder. He pushes with his other hand, pulls back and tries again, then tries a punch but that too stops short. 

Steve watches the whole thing from the bed, breath held tight in his throat. It’s strangling him as he watches his mate struggle to make contact with Charles. It’s not until he relaxes and lays his hand on the old man’s shoulder in casual contact that he manages to cut through the invisible barrier. Then, to the surprise of everyone in the room, Bucky laughs.

“Well done, Sergeant Barnes,” Charles says softly. “Very well done.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is a Spartan expression Spartan wives would say to their husbands before they left for battle that meant "win the battle or die trying." I thought it was fitting.


	23. The First Luxury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bucky adjusts to his new home with Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, you guys, thank you so much for the support. Seriously. It means the world to me. Thank you so much. I cherish and appreciate every comment you guys gave me. Thank you so much, I love you guys.
> 
> Once again, huge thanks to [Errant Tumbleweed](http://archiveofourown.org/users/cryogenia/pseuds/An%20Errant%20Tumbleweed). Without you I couldn't do this. You guide me and walk me through my own story in the best ways. I adore you.

Bucky seems to still be lost to the Winter Soldier when they arrive on Steve’s floor so Steve just lets Bucky take the lead. There isn’t a guide for any of this. Steve can’t ask JARVIS to search How To Care For Your Psychically Shielded, Former Brainwashed POW Assassin Mate on the internet and expect any results.They just don’t exist.

And Bucky doesn’t want to engage.

So Steve watches instead. He sits on the couch in his living room with the TV on and tracks his mate out of the corners of his eyes. It’s…the best word for it is probably interesting.

While he doesn’t follow Bucky from room to room, Steve knows that’s where he goes anyway. He can here it for one. For another, he asks JARVIS to show is progress on the TV as he goes. On mute. And to change the screen back to regular broadcasting as soon as the AI detect Bucky returning. Steve knows that technically computers don’t really have feelings but JARVIS is special and is amused with him anyway.

“And don’t tell Tony about this,” Steve adds, as an afterthought. “Ever.” JARVIS is pretty good about keeping his secrets but he can never be too careful when it comes to the two of them choosing.

“Of course not, sir,” JARVIS replies. If he had a face, he’d definitely be smirking at Steve right now.

He watches Bucky work his way through the bathroom. He unscrews the taps, empties the cabinets, unfolds all the towels, checks in the toilet tank. He opens the pill bottles that have the neonatal vitamins Steve takes religiously and cuts one open to investigate the contents. He watches as Bucky does the same with the green fentanyl pills Steve only uses after the most brutal missions when he bullies his way out of medical sooner than he should. His system tears through everything less powerful too fast for it to make a dent. They’re all probably expired by now. He got them a year ago and hasn’t touched them since before he found out he was pregnant.

Then, with a terrifying care, Bucky puts it all back. Every screw, every towel, every bottle of shampoo and bar of soap. The only things that don’t go back are the pills that Bucky checked. If Steve hadn’t watched him do it, he would never have known Bucky had been there.

Bucky does the same thing with Steve’s bedroom only faster and more in-depth. He manages to go through his entire closet, all his drawers, his storage containers with the recovered stuff from their Brooklyn apartment he wouldn’t let the Smithsonian use that he keeps under his bed, the bed itself including the pillows and all the bedding, and takes apart the record player and iPhone dock - ostensibly to check for bugs Steve guesses - in less than an hour. When he’s done, the room looks completely untouched, right down to the way his blankets are rumpled at the foot of the bed and the C-shaped bodypillow Clint got him is thrown up haphazardly against the headboard. Steve has to admit he’s impressed.

“Has he noticed you?” Steve whispers to JARVIS.

“He has not made any acknowledgement of my sensors, sir. However, I would not surprised if he found them in his search. According to the data I’ve gathered both from research and from observing Agent Barton and Agent Romanov, covert agents are trained not to react to unexpected variables in their surroundings when they encounter them.”

“Right. Of course.”

“I must inform you that should he try to dismantle any of my sensors, I am obligated to inform Mr. Stark.”

God, Tony. Steve hasn’t had a chance to talk to Tony since Bucky got here. He’s been too caught up in himself but he should. Tony’s been a rock for him - given him access to the best doctors, a place to live, and, most importantly, given him a foundation that he’s built a real family on for the first since the '30s.

Even if Steve hadn’t come to love the man like a brother, Steve would owe any person who did those things for him a conversation about the status quo in their own building. It’s especially important with Tony because Tony knowing what the Winter Soldier did to his parents from the Avengers team review of the HYDRA info-dump is one thing. Tony coming face to face with the real Bucky in a common space before they can discuss it is another.

He puts it on his mental to-do list along with “schedule an appointment with Dr. Javed” and “buy pants that fit.” Oh yeah, the exciting life of a pregnant superhero. If the news pundits only knew.

“Let me talk to Tony if he messes with any of your sensors, okay?”

“So long as you do so in a timely fashion, Captain Rogers, I can leave that to you should the need arise.”

“Thanks, JARIVIS.”

“My pleasure, sir.”

Steve’s mother taught him not to chew his fingernails but he forgets her lessons as Bucky dismantles the laundry room. He stops just shy of taking apart the washer and drier but only just. He gives himself a vicious hangnail on his right middle finger as Bucky completely deconstructs his art room.

Tony set the studio up in one of the three spare bedrooms with what JARVIS told him had the best lighting without Steve’s permission before he ever moved in. He couldn’t go in for a couple years actually - that much space and materials spent on him just seemed like a waste back then, before he learned how to accept what he was given with any kind of grace. Since making the Tower his home though, Steve’s actually gotten really particular about the space and what he keeps in it. He actually winces a little as he watches his mate open and close his pastels with a less than gentle metal hand. He can more than afford replacements but the Depression instincts in him still make him uneasy. He’s actually more comfortable with Bucky flipping through his work than the way he moves the palette where Steve’s carefully mixed his oils together. Sure Bucky can do more damage in the kitchen but he’s definitely relieved when he moves on to there from the art room.

Of course, once Bucky hauls the trashcan out from under the sink starts throwing things out of his fridge Steve rethinks that reaction. He watches for a few stunned moments before getting to his feet and padding into the kitchen. Bucky doesn’t stop when he enters the room, just keeps methodically sorting through the shelves, throwing out about half that containers and rearranging the rest.

“Whatcha doing, Buck?”

Bucky tosses one last container, this one of ricotta cheese and okay, Steve knows there was still cheese in there, into the trash before standing up and closing the refrigerator door. He opens the freezer and begins again, although more sparingly. Steve doesn’t really keep much in there besides ice cream and leftovers. The combination of his own time on ice and years of bad Army ready-made food experiences has steered him clear of things that need to stored frozen.

“Bucky?” He tries again but that gets him no response. He sighs and tries again because he can meet Bucky where he is. He can. “Sit rep?”

“Removal of possible toxic substances from the premises in progress,” Bucky retorts shortly, not breaking from his deep and meaningful gaze with the depths of the freezer. “Estimated time to task completion - seventeen minutes on target area.”

“Right. Um, Bucky? I bought that cheese on Friday. I think it’s okay to eat.” Steve almost laughs when he turns and gives him a look that is 100% Bucky in its _are you fucking kidding me with this shit?_ attitude. He holds up both hands. “Okay. Okay. No I’ll let you time check all my cheese.”

So Steve just folds his arms over his chest and takes a step back to watch. Most of it is reasonable. Leftovers of dinners he forgot about disappear into the trash one after another and it’s shockingly familiar, like when Bucky would clean out their icebox back in Brooklyn with the addition of military precision. If they were bitching at each other, it could be 1938. Then Bucky reaches in with his metal hand and grabs the block of deluxe chocolate Clint brought him back from that op he did in Switzerland and Steve has to take a stand.

“Okay, hey, no.” He reaches out and puts a hand on Bucky’s arm and the whole room freezes.

The plates on Bucky’s arm shift independent of each other with a quiet whirring noise. Steve watches as Bucky stares down at his hand with dark eyes, then up at his face, then back to where Steve’s skin touch cold silver metal. The tension in Bucky’s body is rigid so Steve lifts his hand and takes a step back.

“Sorry.”

“The high sugar and caffeine content,” Bucky says robotically. “It can be detrimental to fetal development.”

“It’s fine, Buck.”

“You can’t get sick,” he says, this time his voice sounding far more fragile. “You used to get so sick, Steve.”

Steve wants to pull Bucky into his arms, to cry, to scream. Instead he forces a wide grin and plays it off. “If the scarlet fever didn’t get me in '40, package of Swiss chocolate isn’t going to get me now. I’m fine. I don’t get sick anymore. I’m safe.” He does touch Bucky then, just a hand on his shoulder, open palmed and careful. “We’re all safe here.”

“I have to complete the mission,” Bucky says, looking lost. Steve squeezes his shoulder then nods, releasing him and taking a step back.

“Do what you need to do Buck. I’ll be in the living room when you want me.”

Leaving the kitchen is agony but Steve does it. He settles himself on the couch and turns on a movie. He goes with The Greatest Show On Earth because with Dorothy Lamour, Jimmy Stewart and Betty Hutton it’s full of familiar faces. On the other hand, it came out in ’52 so it’s far enough removed from his personal past that it doesn’t remind him of anything painful either. Plus, all the backstage circus stuff reminds him of the better parts of his showgirl days and he’s not afraid to admit it.

He’s watching Dorothy Lamour sing Lovely Luawana Lady in the center ring with Emmett Kelly when Bucky enters the room. He considers asking JARVIS to hit pause but stops himself. When they were younger men, Bucky would always get annoyed when he stopped what he was doing. How many times did he do that before the war, come home from work to find Steve already home and ready to jump up to meet him only to stop him?

_“Don’t stop drawing on my account. You don’t wanna lose your inspiration.”_

_“Don’t get up for me. You look comfortable.”_

_“Don’t turn of the wireless for me, you’re enjoying yourself.”_

So Steve doesn’t stop the film, just sort of shifts so that his arm is draped over the back of the couch in invitation. And maybe he holds his breath a little too.

Bucky sits down a good two feet from him but its within arm’s reach. Between them, he sets the cold block of Swiss chocolate. With warm, pink fingers, he pushes the candy across the cushion until it bumps Steve’s leg.

Steve covers it with his hand, making sure his fingers touch Bucky’s. It’s on the tip of his tongue to say thank you but something stops him. Instinct maybe? He’s not sure but instead he just gives Bucky’s fingers a light tap then takes the chocolate. He’s not really hungry and the chocolate is way too cold for how he normally likes it but damned if he isn’t going to eat it right here, right now.

He takes a bit and oh, fuck, it’s good. He moans a little and can suddenly feel Bucky’s eyes on him. Yeah. He remembers what they did in the elevator. It’s been less than a day. He’s still sticky. Now his mate is feeding him, which combined with the recently renewed bond bite and the stress of the day is making everything kind of get to him. Overwhelmed is probably the best word for how he’s feeling right now.

“It’s good, Buck,” Steve murmurs. He hopes that Bucky will understand that he doesn’t just mean the chocolate. He means Bucky being here, being close, being safe - everything. Steve means everything.

Bucky gives him a crooked smile with closed lips.

“You can stay for now right? We’re okay?”

Bucky nods but his smile doesn’t lose any of it’s strain. If anything, his eyes gain some shine to them. Maybe Steve’s just tired though, seeing things, because the next thing Bucky does is to offer his hand the same way he offered the chocolate, sliding it carefully across the space between them until it just barely touches a fold of Steve’s pants leg.

Steve doesn’t hesitate this time. He folds Bucky’s fingers into his and squeeze tight. He brings the warm digits to his lips and kisses the knuckles.

“We’re okay,” Steve repeats, willing it to be true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The Greatest Show On Earth](http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0044672/?ref_=nm_knf_i2) is the only film for which acclaimed director Cecil B. DeMille won an Academy Award. It really does have all those actors in it and really is all about the circus. It's one of my favorite movies of all time. In case you're curious, I've embedded the scene mentioned above the notes because it wont let me embed in the comments [or you can watch it on YouTube.](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dygaWkKI2UM) It's a trip. It's also particularly touching for the line _Don't you ever be afraid he won't come back to you_  
>   
>  The chapter title comes from a quote that is often attributed to Mariska Hargitay and maybe she did say it but I found it, in complete context, in the book P.S. Grandma Says by Thomas Barnhart III as follows:  
>  _"Both expectations and memories are more than mere images founded on previous experience. Every passion borders on the chaotic, but the collector's passion borders on the chaos of memories, except for chocolate. Chocolate is the first luxury. It has so many things wrapped up in it: Deliciousness in the moment, childhood memories, and that grin-inducing feeling of getting a reward for being good. It always invokes the past."_


	24. You Miss One-Hundred Percent of the Shots You Don't Take

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Steve's got some 'splainin' to do. Or - a phone call would've been nice?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As ever, for [Errant Tumbleweed](Errant%20Tumbleweed) you are the wind beneath my wings.
> 
> Again, unbetaed because I thought you;d want it sooner rather than perfect. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for the support. I love being back in this verse. I hope you're enjoying it too.

“What the fuck, man?” Sam demands, standing at the threshold of his floor and the elevator.

“Uh.” Steve is not at the height of are articulation right now. It’s six a.m. and while he was once a morning person, the whole baby thing has changed that dramatically. Not even Super cells can battle pregnancy exhaustion. “Hi?”

“Barnes is here, and I had the hear about it from Natasha.” Sam pushes past him, making a beeline for the kitchen. Steve trails after him. ““I love you like a brother but I repeat, what the fuck?”

“Sam…” Steve begins but he trails off. Saying that he was going to call him would be a lie and he makes it a point not to lie to Sam.

The past few days days have been shaky and strained most of the times but when things have been good, Jesus, they’re glorious. At best, Bucky has been lucid, relaxed and tactile. Steve hasn’t had this much sex since they were first bonded. He spends hours at a time in a bond-high, drifting in sensory overload and pleasure dazed.

When Bucky is himself, he doesn’t like Steve to go to far. “I missed your skin,” he says practically purring as he slips his fingers under the back of Steve’s shirt and up his spine, or around the front to caress his belly and up to his chest where even the slightest pressure makes him gasp now. “It’s still so soft. How could I forget this?” It’s rhetorical of course. Neither of them want to think about how he lost the memory of what the touch felt like. 

When he’s the Winter Soldier, well, that’s trickier but they’re figuring it out. The soldier mostly paces. He spends a lot of time watching Steve except for when he disappears for hours on end. Steve doesn’t know where he goes or how he leaves the apartment because the elevator never opens and neither do the windows but he is definitely gone. Steve doesn’t stress about it too much.

Okay, he tries not to. Bucky can take care of himself, no matter who is in the driver's seat. He’s a super assassin on a choke chain. He can handle himself and he can’t hurt anyone. Steve doesn’t need to babysit him, even if he wants to. 

Steve tugs at his shirt nervously as he follows Sam’s progress through his kitchen with his eyes. At fifteen weeks, Steve is starting to show in a way that can’t be ignored anymore. Nothing he owns really fits him. He’s ordered a bunch of triple XL T-shirts with various amusing or funny pictures and sayings on them he found on the internet but he refused to let Tony rush them so they’re not here yet. He’s done the same with maternity pants but they’re not here either so he’s started wearing Bruce’s Hulk pants until they arrive. Yes, he considered going to a maternity store for all of thirty seconds before scrapping that plan. He doesn’t want a picture of him picking out elastic waists on trending globally, thank you very much. 

Sam, because he’s clearly getting back at Steve for his poor behavior, starts making coffee. Steve isn’t sure how exactly because Bucky threw away alway of his, from the frozen instant stuff Steve kept for emergencies to the ridiculous cat-poop coffee beans from Indonesia that Tony gave him for Christmas. Tony actually cried when he told him about it a few days ago, when he made his first foray into the communal areas since Bucky’s return. Pepper had to take him out of the room for some air. Even Clint had seemed sad. Bucky somehow seemed to have known what they were talking about when he got back to their floor and had looked completely unapologetic. 

Steve just fucking misses coffee. He’d take the sewer runoff they drank on the Western Front at this point so what Sam is doing in his coffeemaker smells like heaven. “Is that, uh, decaf?”

“Hell no. You must be out of your damn mind if you think I’m making you a cup of anything, Mr. My Mate Who’s Tried to Kill You On Multiple Occasions Moved In With Me and I Didn’t Even Bother To Call.”

“There were extenuating circumstances.”

“He held a gun to my head. In my own home. I deal with bullets and super assailants on the clock, Rogers. My expense account is not big enough to include overtime.”

“I’m sorry, Sam.” He shrugs and tugs at his shirt again. “But we’ve taken precautions against that happening this time. He can’t hurt you, or me, or anyone but Nat actually but she agreed to that so I don’t think that counts.”

Sam pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head. “I know you think that makes it better, and maybe it does, tactically, but the rest of it, not so much man.”

“Sam, listen, I know there’s a lot of kinks to work out but-“

“Kinks? Kinks? Tying each other up is a kink. Liking feet is a kink. Your babydaddy’s unstable psychological state mixed with your pregnancy are not kinks. They’re problems, actual problems. Did you do any of the reading on what stress can do to a kid in utero? The last thing you need is the poor kid being twitchy and full of allergies because his pops has five personalities and sleeps upside down like a bat.”

“You know I haven’t actually seen him sleep since he got here,” Steve admits. “I’m actually a little worried.”

“See this?” Sam points to his face with the hand holding his mug of coffee. “This is my disappointed face. I learned it from my mother who learned it from her mother. It’s been passed down through the women in my family for generations. I’m the first man of non-Omega status ever to been taught it. I guess you could say it was an honor even to be nominated. I am bestowing it on you now because you’re family to me and I need you to really, truly understand of how deeply disappointed I am, in you, right now.” 

His brown eyes bored into Steve’s soul and the small downturn at the corners of his mouth weren’t a frown not exactly. They were something else, so was the flaring of his nostrils and the way his eyebrows both cut in towards his nose more than normal. Steve feels himself shrink the the superserum in reverse. No, more than that, like he’s come home in his church clothes with dirt on his clean white shirt and blood on his face and knuckles to find his mother standing with her arms folded over her chest, sighing and shaking her head.

“Jesus, Sam.” Steve mutters, ducking his head. If Sam can figure out how to weaponize that look, they won’t need the Hulk anymore. They’ll just guilt all their enemies to death.

“I’m not going to pretend to understand what you’re going through.” Sam puts his cup down on the counter and leans forward on his elbows. “I can’t just stand by for it though. Barnes did a lot of damage to a lot of people, myself included, and that’s not going to evaporate just because you move him in to play happy families.”

Steve focused his gaze on the curve of Sam’s elbows his periwinkle sweater. They meet the marble countertops, the soft cashmere a drastic contrast. It isn’t a distraction but it gives him somewhere to look other than back into Sam’s piercing gaze. “I know that.”

“Do you?” Sam asks. “Do you really? Because so far it doesn’t seem like you do. You haven’t talked to anyone you live with or like me are friends with about what’s going on. You haven’t discussed boundaries or how things are going to change that might effect them. I honestly can’t believe I gotta talk to you this because this is all stuff you know already.”

“He makes me stupid,” Steve blurts. “And not bond-high stupid. Actual stupid.”

“You don’t say. Because nearly getting yourself killed over and by the guy on multiple occasions didn’t tell me that ages ago.”

“It’s not funny, Sam.”

“No,” Sam agrees. “It’s not. It’s deadly serious. This guy is your mate, the father of your son, and a deeply damaged individual who is still probably destructive even if Nat’s right about whatever hoodoo,” Sam wiggles his fingers”That psychic mutant put on him. And before you bring up the violence thing, I’m saying he’s dangerous if only because of what he can do to you emotionally. I’m not your counselor and I’m not your boss so I’m not here to tell you how to live your life but I am your friend and I’m worried about you like I’d be about any friend in a possibly risky relationship. And not to get all regency romance novel on you, but you are in a delicate condition. What you do now doesn’t just effect you anymore.”

“I’m very aware of that.”

“Yeah. Well, maybe act like it.’ He stands up straight and then punches Steve in the shoulder. “And call me, you jerk. It’s been a week. That’s not how friends do.”

Steve replies, thoroughly chagrinned. “I really was busy.” 

“Yeah I know. I bet you’re gonna tell me all about it but I do not want to hear about any of the sex bits.”

Steve turns on the puppy eyes that never worked on his mother but got Bucky to split vanilla milkshakes with him when he always liked chocolate better. “But those are the best parts.”

“Don’t care. Not listening.”

“Come on, Sam. If you let me overshare I’ll let you touch the bump.”

Sam crosses his arms over his chest. “You must think I’m some kind of pushover, don’t you, Rogers?”

“Everyone wants to touch the bump, Wilson.” He hasn’t been able to leave his floor without someone looking at him with that _please can I touch it_ look so common in toy stores and candy shops. He’d even caught it on the face of one of the cleaning staff on the communal floors when he’d gone hunting for a spare peeler when a nice solid cramp led him to accidentally break his by squeezing too hard the other day. “Don’t deny it.”

Sam sighs heavily and picks his cup back up. “Fine. But euphemisms only on anything over a PG rating and if your man comes back, he has to maintain a ten foot distance at all times and apologize for the gun thing.”

“That sounds…” Steve searches for the right word. “Fair.”

“And for my wings.”

Steve is smiling now. He can’t help himself. Sam brings it out of him. “Deal.”

“And for ripping the steering wheel out of my car. I was like six payments away from being paid off on that car.”

“Okay, okay."

“Right. Now lemme at that bump, mama. He kicking yet?”

“Not yet,” Steve says. He grinning so hard it hurts when Sam’s big hand spreads across his stomach, dark against the white of his shirt. This is good. This is family. 

Once Sam is done patting his stomach and making suitably fraternal noises, he lets Steve pour out everything that’s gone on since Bucky came back while he makes Steve a cup of tea and gets more coffee for himself. Steve tries not to burn with envy. He consoles himself by being a little more lurid in his description of his and Bucky’s reunion than he really needs to be until Sam chucks a banana at his head.

Steve catches it and begins to peel it because what the hell. He’s hungry all the time now and potassium is good for you anyway even if he never has gotten 100% used to modern bananas. 

“But you’re happy?” Sam asks, when they finally settle at the kitchen table. “With Barnes back.”

“It depends on what you mean? If you’re talking about that big bright overwhelming feeling then, sometimes? I’m pretty sure that’s a transient state.” He studies his tea. This particular cup is a black rose blend that smells more like perfume than beverage but is actually pretty great with sugar. “But if you mean the boring kind of happy, you know, where you have breakfast in the morning with the person you picked to spend the rest of your life with when they wouldn’t necessarily be otherwise and you think, God that’s amazing, then yeah. I’m happy.”

“Okay, Plato. You don’t need to get all philosophical on me. It was a yes or no question.” Sam’s voice is teasing though and he’s smiling over the rim of his mug. “I’m glad, though. I was tired of seeing the kicked puppy-dog eyes all the time. It’s not cute.”

“I’ve got it on good authority that it’s very cute. I charmed war bonds out of men and women in all 48 continental United States with those puppy-dog eyes.”

“Uh-uh.”

“Every bond you buy is a bullet in the barrel of your best guy’s gun.”

“I’ve only ever read about the stage show. Please Steve, tell me there were tights.”

“They were blue.”

With great solemnity, Sam looks up at the ceiling. “Thank you baby Jesus, for giving me this wonderful gift.” He then immediately pulls out his StarkPhone. “JARVIS, can you pull up pictures of Steve’s stage show days on my phone? I want to see his girlish figure in tights.”

“Of course, sir.”

“JARVIS, don’t you dare.”

“Why not? Your ass looked great in those tights, Steve.”

Both of them freeze and, as one, turn to face Bucky who is leaning against the doorframe at the entry way to the kitchen. Steve can feel the energy in the room change as Sam and Bucky zone in on each other. Sam is weary and Bucky has an edge to him that is faux friendliness over a predatory edge.

Bucky is wearing one of Steve’s shirts that Tony got him on gag that declares Brooklyn We Go Hard, both sleeves cut off so that his arms are showing up to his shoulders. He’s in a pair of red basketball shorts that don’t fit Steve anymore and he’s wearing running shoes. If not for the metal arm, he could have been a regular guy coming back from a run or off to meet some friends for a game of basketball. Steve doesn’t know where Bucky is coming back from, only that he wasn’t here when he woke up. Steve both does and doesn’t want to know so he tries to focus on the fact that Bucky is lucid and that he’s here now instead. 

“Bucky, this is Sam Wilson. You’ve met a few times.”

“Under less than ideal circumstances,” Sam finishes for him.

“Yeah,” Bucky agrees. “Sorry about your car. And your wings. That wasn’t really me.”

“And the death threat was?” Sam asks, cocking his head.

Bucky shrugs. He doesn’t look chagrinned or sorry. If anything he looks resigned. “He was at your feet, in your nest, carrying my baby and my mark. I’m not always in charge completely lately and I’m not saying it was the right thing to do but I can’t say it wasn’t at least partially me.” He sighs. “Look if it makes you feel any better I probably wasn’t going to shoot you, back then. I was trying not to hurt anybody.”

Sam unclenches slightly. “A little but just a little.”

Bucky nods. “Fair enough. Anyway, sorry for that too. You’re important to Steve and what’s important to him is important to me. I’m just not always firing on all cylinders.”

“You’re firing something.”

“Okay,” Steve snaps. “He’s trying,” he says to Sam. “Are you going to try?” He doesn’t add the _for me_. He doesn’t need to. The only reason Sam’s still in the same room as Bucky is for him.

“Yeah,” Sam agrees, loosening a tiny bit more. It’s going to take some time but they’re going to get there, Steve thinks. “So where you Barnes? Six is awful early to already be out and about.”

“Out.”

“Out?” Sam repeats. “You were out. Steve know you were out?”

“He’s a smart guy. He figured it out.”

Steve sighs and finishes off his banana. It’s not popcorn but it’ll do.

“So no note. No letting him know where his crazy, disappearing mate got off to or what he was doing.”

“I was doing stuff.”

“Stuff.”

Bucky nods. “Yeah.”

“Hold back there, man. I don’t think I can handle the tidal wave of information you’re hitting me with.”

Bucky rolls his eyes. “Oh, go jump off the roof.”

“Now, see, I would. It actually sounds like fun. The Tower’s in a great location for it but this asshole with a metal arm broke my wings. Maybe you’ve met him, about six feet tall, brown hair frowns a lot, some recall issues.”

“I’m not saying sorry again.”

“Meaning it the first time would be nice.”

An idea comes to Steve like a blinding realization, pure truth. “Pregnancy veto,” he blurts out.

Both men turn to stare at him. Bucky just lifts and eyebrow but Sam actually asks “What’s that?

“I’m pregnant. I’m not supposed to be under duress because it can cause negative effects to the fetus so if things get heated or uncomfortable or, I don’t know, like a shoot out seems likely, I’m going to pull out the pregnancy veto and that’ll be it. You guys are going to drop whatever topic you were on and switch to something neutral like the weather or sports because he comes first, over all three of us, over anyone. That’s final.” He makes sure to put his extra commanding Captain America Command Tone on that last sentence because dammit he means business. He doesn’t need his two best guys at each others throats right now and he will shamelessly capitalize on his condition if he has to. He’s never been above sneaky tactics, he’s not about to change now. 

“Sure thing Cap.”

“Okay Steve.”

“Good. It’s settled. So,” Steve leans back, “You see the Rangers kick the crap out of the Capitals last night? Ovechkin’s good but he can’t carry a whole team alone.”

“Hey now,” Sam warns. “We can’t all cool our asses on a supermodel goalies."

Bucky crosses the room and leans his right hip against Steve’s chair. He places his right hand on the back of Steve’s neck, fingertips just barely caressing the bond mark. “Hockey, Steve? Really? Didn’t take you for a traitor.”

“The Rangers were around when you guys were kids?”

“They won a Stanley cup in 1940,” Bucky says, then wrinkles his brows. He looks over at Steve. “Right? We didn’t go see them play but they did win the cup.”

Steve feels like sunshine is exploding out of every pore because yeah, they did. They beat the Leafs in overtime and they’d listened to it on the radio. “Yeah. Baseball season didn’t start until the next week so we figured why not get behind our city.”

“It was April. We kept the windows open,” Bucky says, squinting. “Someone kept shouting at a cat to shut the fuck up.”

“Mrs. Caperski’s tabby.”

“God that cat was ugly,” Bucky sighs and he’s smiling now, amused and warm. “Sweet though. Didn’t even chase mice, just sorta sprawled on people.” 

“Sounds like it’d’ve gotten along great with Barton,” Sam mumbles reminding them of his presence.

“Probably,” Steve agrees. “If he weren’t a dog person.”

“Dogs are good. But what are you doing back with hockey? Baseball isn’t your sport anymore?” This time, Bucky looked concerned. 

Steve lifted up his hand and curled it around Bucky’s elbow. “Nah, blame Tony. He’s got season tickets and has been dragging us out with him whenever Pepper’s out of town. You go to enough games and you start to give a damn, is all.”

“Still, man.” Bucky shakes his shaggy head. “Hockey.”

“Capitals forever, man. Go DC,” Sam declares stubbornly.

“Look at it this way, I could be an Islanders fan,” Steve offers and Bucky pinches him. “Hey!”

“No blasphemy around the baby. He might hear you and by the time he’s five he’ll want everything in fucking blue and orange. Fucking Long Island. How does it even have a team? How is it even a place?”

Sam was having more of his coffee as Bucky was talking but that makes him snort. A little coffee actually comes out his nose. 

Steve can’t help it. He starts laughing until tears roll down his face but they’re happy tears. He can’t remember the last time he felt this light, this loved. He decides, even as he’s lost in hysterical laughter, that he will do anything he has to to ensure that his life has more moments like this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few factual notes:  
> 1)The cat-poop coffee is real. It's called kopi luwak, it's from Sumatra and it costs like between $60-$100 PER CUP because civet cats eat the seeds, digest it, excrete it partially with the enzymes doing cool stuff to the beans. And apparently that makes it delicious? It's a long story of indigenous peoples getting around colonialism only to get screwed by capitalism in the end. I don't know but it seems like a thing Tony Stark would buy for his friends. Because it's so highly valued there are animal cruelty issues with the way civet cats are treated in the production of kopi luwak so if you decide you want to try it, make sure you get it fair trade from free and living civet cats and it's collected by local farmers. Most companies will tell advertise that. Anyway have a picture of a civet cat cuz it's kinda cute.  
> 
> 
> 2)Brooklyn We Go Hard is by Jay-Z ft. Santigold. 
> 
> 3)The New York Rangers really did beat the Toronto Maple Leafs in 1940 in the Stanley Cup finals in overtime of Game 6.(Poor Leafs cannot catch a damn break in any decade.) The last game of the Stanley Cup Finals was played on April 13th, 1940. 
> 
> 4)Opening Day of the 1940-1941 MLB season for the Brooklyn Dodgers was April 16th, 1940 so there wouldn't have been a conflict for Steve and Bucky to have listened to the Rangers game in the 40s because their games hadn't started yet. 
> 
> 5)While hockey wasn't regularly broadcast on the radio by non-Canadian radio stations, cities with NHL teams would often broadcast home games and NYC was the first to begin regular radio coverage of their team, the New York Rangers in 1953 so its a fairly safe assumption that a radio station covered the playoffs because it was, in fact the championship for a hometown team.
> 
> 6)I made Sam a Washington D.C. Capitals fan because we meet him in DC and it seemed like the thing to do. It was either that or make him an Islander or a Devil and I can't. I just can't.
> 
> 7) New York Rangers goalie Henrik Lundquist really is an actual model on top of the NLH.
> 
> 8)The chapter title is a quote from the Great One: Wayne Gretzky. 
> 
> In summary - Expensive cat-poop coffee is legit, Jay-Z represents, and it's Stanley Cup Finals time you guys. One of my favorite teams is playing a team that is having its **first ever** shot at the Cup and I couldn't be more proud of both teams so it sorta spilled over into this chapter.


	25. Some Terrible Thrills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is movie night that doesn't go as planned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As ever, for [Errant Tumbleweed](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2673695/chapters/Errant%20Tumbleweed) because without you there would be no fic. Thank you also to anyone who commented! I am so excited and happy you are still with me.
> 
> Again, checked by me multiple times but unbeta'd by an outside party because I thought you'd want it sooner rather than perfect. However, have no doubt that I will go through and make ridiculous number of corrections to the typos I will never stop seeing *sighs*. 
> 
> Research-y details at the bottom cuz people seemed to like that last time?

Things have been moving around ever since Bucky moved into the tower. He's used to finding things he left in the bathroom in the kitchen or the remote in the closet. However, first time Steve finds something noticeably not-his in the apartment, the Avengers are on assignment on a joint mission with the Russian Army taking down a Hydra base about 50 miles north of the Chinese border. It's a long, thick cashmere scarf so soft and so warm that Steve can barely believe it's real. He has no idea what it's doing in his bed, especially since Bucky has been MIA for about 3 days before that. 

JARVIS had informed him that Bucky was "in the tower, however his mental state seemed less than optimal and when confronted, he, shall we say, _requested_ I not give you his exact coordinates unless it was an emergency," so he wasn't too worried. Still it was weird especially since it had VP monogrammed on it in what seems to be orange silk.

He forgets about it for a little while when the team tumbles home from the other side of the world. There are no injuries, a successful retrieval of a bunch of information and Russia and the US will be sharing a bunch of HYDRA prisoners. A win by any metric which, Clint declares, calls for movies and pizza. Since Thor is there, Steve is pregnant, and Bruce Hulked out - they order enough pies from Tony's favorite place to feed a herd of elephants.

Of course once they're all settled, happily chowing down on what Thor has declared their victory feast and arguing about whether they should watch something funny or with actual social value for the "pop culturally ignorant in the room" as Tony graciously refers to him and Thor, when that changes. Steve had thrown the scarf over one shoulder when JARVIS announced the quinjet's arrival and he absently goes to grab for it instead of a napkin. Only Tony grabbing his wrist keeps him from acting like a heathen his mother would be disappointed in.

"Where did you find Peppers scarf?" He asks, wiping his own hand off on his jeans before plucking it off Steve and draping it around his own neck. He looks a little like Gloria Swanson like that. 

"It's Pepper's?"

"Yeah. I had them put her initials on it and everything." He flicks the end of scarf like a woman tossing hair in a shampoo commercial. "It was very thoughtful of me."

"Yeah," Steve agrees, confused, because he hasn't seen Pepper wear scarves like this inside - one made for actual warmth rather than decoration. Not when JARVIS climate controls the entire building. "Very."

"So we've decided on Men in Black because you stopped paying attention," Clint declares.

"Oh come on, Barton," Tony groans. "Aliens. Really?"

"You wanted culturally relevant. As someone dating a man in black, I don't think it gets more culturally relevant than this. Plus, they need to see this before the 21 Jump Street crossover comes out."

"That's really happening?" Sam asks, breathless. He looks like he can't decide if he is horrified and delighted. It's making his mustache look like he has a dancing caterpillar on his face which is hilarious enough that Steve has a hard time believing this sci-fi picture will top it. 

"Yep," Clint crows happily. "It's like I prayed to the gods of buddy cop flicks and lo did they look upon my good works and reward me with a bounty the likes of which I couldn't have dreamed of."

"Yes, it's always a blessing when the gods bestow their favor," Thor agrees happily.

"You should get Clint to take you to the temple some time," Natasha agrees, her face a complete mask. 

"Yes, we should all go! That would be most educational." There's an awkward moment where the group silently debates who is going to break the news to Thor that Clint was just joking before Thor starts laughing. Clint cracks up a second later and ends up with his face buried in a couch cushion.

Steve forgets sometimes, that Thor is the Asgardian version of a career soldier and if soldiers are good at anything, its good at fucking with each other. Even before the serum when he was just a shrimpy stickbug the guys at Camp Lehigh were pulling each others legs. Once he was with the Howlies it only got worse. Dernier and Gabe liked to team up and mess with them all with their little "oh Jackie doesn't speak English" shtick and DumDum told tales taller than the Chrysler building.

"Good one, your highness," Natasha chirps, propping her feet up on the prince's ridiculous thighs, stretching out between him and Clint. Thor beams back at her, preening. "So are we going to do this, or not?"

"Popcorn," Bruce declares. "This needs popcorn. Start without me."

"You got it, Doc. JARVIS, cue it up."

"Of course, sir."

There is a big difference between action movies and war movies and Men in Black is a very funny action movie. It’s a very smart action movie that gets a lot of things right. Agent Kay reminds Steve of Colonel Phillips and Agent Jay is clever and charming and the aliens look real. Steve finds himself so engrossed that he doesn’t notice that a new person as joined them until a cool hand rests on the side of his neck.

Steve freezes for an instant, registering the plates that make up fingers and palm, before melting into the contact. It is still cold, shockingly so, but it’s soothing too, in the realness of it, the uncompromising rigidity of the metal of his mate’s hand. It was solid and stable and Steve could put his weight on it and be held.

The rest of the movie feels like a single held breath. He is still as can be and he spends the majority of the rising action projecting the thought “don’t startle him, don’t startle him” at his little found family as the heroes fight a giant cockroach( and could there be a more New York City villain than a space roach besides an alien sewer rat maybe?). He doesn’t startle when the ship crash or wince Kay blows the bug up from the inside. He doesn’t move at all until Jay wipes Kay’s fucking memory of their friendship and the man’s entire life for the some sick concept of intergalactic greater good - as if the world couldn’t adapt to the reality of billions of beings needing to be safe and healthy, as if people were so weak that they need to sacrifice the minds of their heroes to keep their sad little status quo.

He doesn’t even realize he’s standing until a hand wraps around his waist. It’s not Bucky’s. It’s too thin, too gentle. It’s Bruce, his smell neutral and calm in all the ways he really isn’t deep down. The credits started rolling at some point and everyone is staring at him, even the Soldier who is perched on the back of the chair Steve had been sitting in, quiet and contained but coiled to strike.

“You back with us, Cap?” Bruce asks. “Because you and I can go for a walk if you want to get some air.”

“I’m fine,” Steve pants, surprised at his own voice. He’s short of breath. How did that happen?

Clint looks like Steve bought him a dog, let him nurture it, raise it, fall in love with it and then killed it in front of him. “I’m sorry. I forgot it ended that way.” Clint droops and doesn’t even protest when Tony slaps him upside the head. “He gets all his memories back in the sequel, if it helps?”

“I don’t care,” Steve lies. He does care just not about this stupid movie. He cares about memories, the ones the serum have made eidetic, the ones Bucky has lost and hasn’t gotten back, the ones Peggy can’t hold on to for more than a few minutes at a time. He cares that his loss, Bucky’s and Peggy’s and everyone else’s, are real and in life there is no sequel. Charles helped but this, right here, with his time split between the Winter Soldier and Bucky may be the best he ever gets. He has to live with that in this movie made that kind of memory loss into a goddamn joke.

“Yeah,” Steve says, looking directly at Bruce. “A walk would be good.”

The thing Steve loves about Bruce is that whenever he can, he does exactly what he says he’s going to do. When he needs to go Hulk, he smashes. When he says he needs to get away, he gets away. 

So when he invites Steve on a walk, they go on an actual walk. Outside. In the city. Like real people do. They don’t talk because that’s not what Bruce offered. They just move through the Manhattan night, arms brushing every now and then, finding comfort in the noise of the city.

They make a three block loop, because sometimes being _able_ to go farther doesn’t mean you should. That’s why Steve says anything at all, because Bruce would let him keep his peace but that doesn’t make it the right move. 

“I feel like I shouldn’t be this upset,” Steve says. He goes to shove his hands into the pockets of his pants and is met with nothingness. Maternity stretch fabric is great for his growing belly but not so much for storage space. He wraps his arms around himself instead. “He’s back. That should be enough.”

“He’s back, what, fifty percent of the time?”

“Maybe sixty-five.”

“Okay. Sixty-five. That means the other thirty-five percent of the time you’re living with a deeply traumatized alternate personality that happens to be one of the most dangerous people to walk the planet in the last century. With fairly good reason, he’s paranoid, hyper-vigilant, and more than a little territorial and that’s just what I’ve seen from my brief observation. Not counting the fact that he’s not the same person as the man you love.”

“He is though,” Steve protests. “He is. He’s always Bucky. He’s just, a different version of Bucky.”

“You’re not inside his head. You don’t know what it’s like to lose your identity to another self.” Bruce doesn’t look at him. He keeps his eyes fixed on the street in front of them. 

“Bruce.”

“And you won’t unless you talk to him about it.”

“Because you’re so chatty?”

Bruce sighs. “Our circumstances are different. Similar, but different enough that the same advice doesn’t necessarily apply for me.”

“Oh it doesn’t, huh.”

Bruce scowls. It’s not a precursor to going green but he seems displeased. “No. It doesn’t.” They walk another fifty feet then he sighs. “But I can give you Betty’s phone number if you want.”

“Betty.” Steve turns the name over on his tongue. Bruce has mentioned Betty Ross a few times, usually when something is relevant to her field of study. She never comes up when the Avengers are talking about their histories and she never comes up when Bruce is discussing anything remotely emotional. So it takes him a little time to put the pieces together even though he knew, like they all knew, that there was someone Bruce left behind, that he had someone he loved, that he missed them and was aching without them. “I’m not sure that’s appropriate.”

“She’s the only person other I can think of who knows what it’s like to love someone like us.”

Steve stops on the street, taking a calculated risk in catching Bruce by the wrist to stop him too. “You left her.” He doesn’t hold back any of the fear he feels about Bucky when he says it. “Bruce.”

“You aren’t Betty. And he isn’t me.” Bruce heaves a heavy sigh. “The situation was different. It still is different. He’s not a danger to you anymore. I will always be a danger to her.”

“Come on Bruce you don’t really think-“

“You don’t have to decide now. Just have JARVIS let me know if you decide you want the number,” Bruce says shortly, starting to walk again. “That’s all I can give you, Cap. I’m not that kind of doctor you know.”

Steve catches up with him in a few brief strides and bumps his shoulder against Bruce’s. “I know. Thanks anyway, Doc.” Bruce doesn’t say anything for the rest of the walk but he gives Steve a hug when they get to Avengers Tower and go their separate ways. 

From the way Bucky, no, the Soldier, is looking at him when he walks into their shared space, he can tell his mate knows. He is standing at parade rest in the kitchen doorway which, unsurprisingly has the best view of both the CCTV feed JARVIS is running on the living room TV and the elevator door. His grey eyes are shuttered, analyzing and assessing and not happy with what he sees. 

He doesn’t move anything but his mouth as he says, “You let the doctor touch you.”

“He’s my friend, Buck. Friends hug. It happens. The end.” 

Steve is not doing this. He’s tired and his back hurts and he’s got cramps that he’s pretty sure is one-hundred percent gas, and isn’t that lovely. He has his mate back but tonight he’s dealing with all the shitty parts of that, the jealousy and overprotective possessiveness, and none of the good stuff like cuddling or shared jokes or slow kisses that make him forget that being pregnant is miserable. He doesn’t have the energy for the Winter Soldier to piss a circle around him right now. 

“Unnecessary contact by non-family members-“ The soldier begins.

“Bruce is family.” Steve snaps. “Sam is family. Tony is family. Nat and Clint, and Thor and Pepper and, hell, JARVIS, even. They’re my family. And if we want to get nit-picky, then we’d have to address the fact that they’re more family that you lately.”

If this were his Bucky, that would land like a solid right hook. He’d flinch and his eyes would go dark with hurt or anger or both. Instead he’s met with eyes like icebergs, pale, frozen, and mostly hidden beneath darkness. The sight is one of the ugliest things Steve has ever seen.

“It’s late.”

“Twenty-two hundred hours is not late based on the behavior patterns of adult males in the tristate area,” the Soldier observes. “The AI ran an analysis on typical sleep patterns for Omega males aged twenty-five to thirty living in the area and the average time that the sample group slept was twenty-three, forty-five and zero, zero, fifteen depending on the borough.” 

Steve cannot articulate how little he cares about JARVIS’s statistics about the sleep schedules of other young Omega boys in the five boroughs. He just knows what he needs and he’s going to take it. 

“Well by the time I take a shower and am ready for bed it’ll be eleven and that’s close enough. In fact, for those of us burning the candle at both ends for two separate life forces, that’s plenty late. Listen, you can take the bedroom. I’m going to crash on the couch.”

“Your bed would be optimal for healthy gestation. I can stand guard.”

“I want to sleep on my fucking couch, Buck. I want to run Johnny Weissmuller movies in the background until I pass out. You can stand guard or not but this is my plan. Adjust your mission parameters accordingly.”

He doesn’t wait for the Soldier to respond, making a beeline for the bathroom. He stands under the shower so long even his super cells are can’t keep his fingers from going pruney. He is no where near unwound when he makes his way back to the living room but at least he’s clean of the smell of anger and resentment and fear he could practically taste on himself.

Bucky isn’t anywhere to be seen. Steve hates that he’s relieved by his absence. He’s had his mate back for barely two weeks and already he was wanting to be away from him? He feels grimly ungrateful as he curls up on the couch with the duvet he pulled off the bed he should be sharing with Bucky. 

“Shall I cue up Tarzan the Ape Man for you, sir?” JARVIS asks as he lowers the lights and adjusts the climate control. 

“Yeah, thanks JARVIS.”

The flicker of on the wall of a black and white jungle on the screen makes him feel fourteen again. He’d seen this one in the theater when it came out, seen all the Tarzan movies up through Tarzan’s Desert Mystery when the USO screened it. 

That was also the summer Steve had realized he was probably was going to turn out to be the Omega everyone expected him to be because he was attracted to Alphas beyond just Bucky. Movies that came out in 1932 made it pretty clear to Steve that it was all Alphas, if the way Gary Cooper and Cary Grant in Devil and the Deep made his knees shake and Marlene Dietrich in The Shanghai Express made his palms sweat. He hadn’t presented until the fall but the Alpha actors and actresses he fell in love with in ’32 were formative, the fantasies that carried him through his first awful, lonely, half-formed heat.

And of all of them Tarzan was special. Seeing a real live Olympic hero swing through the jungle and fight wild animals had blown the top of his and Bucky’s heads off. They’d spent that spring climbing up rickety fire escapes all over Brooklyn like they were great apes scaling metal vines. What Steve never mentioned to Bucky was that Johnny Weissmuller in that loincloth was the reason that Steve had them spending every cent they could scrape together(and some he couldn’t on the days he could talk Bucky into sneaking in the service entrance of the local theater) seeing it over and over again. It had just been part of their summer adventure. 

Now, fifteen lived years and a life time later, Steve can still pretty much recite the entire script by heart almost. The familiarity makes it easy to let the dialogue lull him into a doze.

When he wakes up the room smells like smoke and spices. He blinks through an actual haze until his vision focuses on Bruce’s incense burner. He has no idea what scent this is but it’s nice, soothing. He’ll have to remember to thank him for dropping it off. He’s about to ask JARVIS to set a reminder for him when a gentle touch lands on his bare ankle, flesh this time, the thumb of a right hand smoothing over the bone and then down towards his arch.

“You looked peaceful. I didn’t want to bother you, but, uh, I don’t think you’ve seen this one,” Bucky says and it is Bucky, his Bucky.

“Huh?”

“Our robot friend told me it came out in ’48 and you haven’t seen it yet. After our time and so…“ Bucky looks around nervously. Bucky’s wearing a blue MIT hoodie with ancient fraying sleeves. Tony gave it to Steve after the Battle of New York, when he found out that all of Steve’s clothes were SHIELD issue. “We watched them together.”

“We did.”

“Wouldn’t wanna break with tradition after a dozen movies.” Bucky gives him a crooked smile. “Seems like a jinx to break a tradition after eighty years, you know?”

Steve smiles and shifts into a sitting position as best he can without moving away from Bucky’s careful hold on his foot. “I can see that.” He tugs the duvet around him, feeling a little like one of those breakfast burritos Sam and Tony like so much. 

“I’m sorry,” Bucky says softly. “About-“

Steve doesn’t need to hear it. “Don’t. This isn’t the kind of thing you apologize for.”

“Then I don’t know what to do when you’re mad. The Soldier was in charge and you were upset and I tried but by the time I was back you-" Bucky cuts himself off. "I don’t know what else to say if I can't say I'm sorry. ”

“You don’t have to say anything, Buck. Just let me be angry.”

Bucky bites his lower lip for a moment then says, “Okay. And you'll let me be near you when you’re angry.”

“I told you you could stay. I want you to stay. Buck, I don’t know what you do and don’t take back and forth with- ” he waves a hand in the general direction of Bucky’s left shoulder “The other guy.” Then he laughs. “Jesus. The other guy. Listen to me.”

“I’m trying.”

“I know you are. I’m trying too but I’m trying for all three of us at the same time. I’ve only got so much to give.” _And I can’t give you priority anymore when there's an entire person depending on me being okay for survival_ , Steve thinks. 

“I don’t need you to give anything,” Bucky says. “Just be. That’s all I want.”

“And what about what you need?” Bucky doesn’t say anything. Steve sighs. “Yeah.”

“I’ll do better.”

Steve shifts so that he’s shoulder to shoulder with Bucky. He ducks his nose against Bucky’s neck and breathes him in on a sigh.“You don’t have to do better. You just have give me the same time I’m giving you.”

“Plus one,” Bucky adds, gently carding his fingers through the short strands at the nape of Steve’s neck. 

Steve is a little surprised to find himself purring into the contact. He was never the purring type. Not all Omegas do it. Hell, he wasn't physically capable before the serum fixed his lungs. He's only done it a couple of times in his entire life before now, one of those times being in the moments after he pulled Bucky off that table in Azzano. It startles them both. It's a happy sort of started though, with Bucky beaming at him, lifting his head to grin like the sun rising.

"Well listen to that. Guess you're not mad at me any more after all."

"Guess I'm not," Steve agrees, feeling himself blush. He's going to make a note to look up purring and pregnancy in those baby books Dr. Javed gave him. He check later though because now Bucky, his Bucky, is nosing at his throat and pressing their chests together, trying to feel the rumble with his body. He nips and Steve's ear, shameless as ever, and Steve gasps. "JARVIS kill the feed. I think movie night's over."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1)The chapter title is a lyric from the song Science Fiction Double Feature which opens the Rocky Horror Picture Show.
> 
> 2)Heh, funny story. So... I forgot how Men In Black ended when I picked it for movie night? This chapter was going to go an entirely different direction. Then I remembered the freaking neuralyzers and how Kay "retires" and this chapter took a sharp and sudden turn. It still did what it needed to do but it's going to take a bit longer to get there because of this. Whoops? 
> 
> 3)The Men in Black/21 Jump Street crossover movie that Clint mentioned is [REAL and it is HAPPENING](http://www.avclub.com/article/21-jump-streetmen-black-crossover-has-title-now-235237) so I need to stop for a moment of thanks and prayer that this isn't the most elaborate studio hoax of all time because I need MIB23 to be a Yuletide category. I need it. *pauses* Okay, moving on. 
> 
> 4)The Tarzan series premiered in US cinemas in 1932 in April. Going by the 1918 birthdate, Steve would have been 13 (*sings* going on 14) when it aired but since he's a summer baby and it's close enough. Johnny Weissmuller was in twelve movies in the Metro-Goldwyn-Meyer Tarzan series from 1932-1948, which featured Maureen O'Sullivan for only six. Yeah. And we think the MCU cast has to make a lot of flicks in the Marvelverse.
> 
> 3)The Shanghai Express is an interesting flick where you can see period Orientalism and Hollywood racism and yellowface in action! It came out in February of '32 but I used it because I am going to assume it had serious staying power because it was also the most successful movie of the year, including Tarzan and Grand Hotel _(which is nuts because thats like if, idk, some random Oscarbait flick had gone against the first Hunger Games and Ocean's Eleven if they had all came out the same year and beat them at the money game)_. The movie also features Anna May Wong, the first Chinese American movie star, in a leading role as the "companion" of Marlene Dietrich. They have more chemistry than Dietrich and her male costar so make of that what you will (and I will that we get a remake that features a non-yellowface cast and ends with Lily and Hui Fei together but thats just me). 
> 
> 4)Devil in the Deep stars Cary Grant and Gary Cooper and also Tallulah Bankhead who is so stunningly fabulous there aren't words. It barely fits because came out in August of 1932 so that still counts as summer!
> 
> 5)All of that leads up to this - the Alphas Steve had feels for in the summer for '32 in glorious black and white!  
> Johnny Weissmuller  
> [](http://tinypic.com?ref=33k7n6q)  
> Marlene Deitrich  
> [](http://tinypic.com?ref=p3i1s)  
> Gary Cooper  
> [](http://tinypic.com?ref=2ngd11l)  
> Cary Grant  
> [](http://tinypic.com?ref=j0ffpj)  
> Look. Steve has a type. I'm not saying it's brunettes with amazing cheekbones and strong chins but it could be.   
> [](http://tinypic.com?ref=2nb4qk6)  
> [](http://tinypic.com?ref=m79uf9)  
> It could be.


	26. It Takes a Village

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Tony's blender wanders off, Sam and Steve go for a run, and an assembly is called.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote most of this today/yesterday. I didn't sleep. I fucking felt this chapter you guys. It's a longer one and it's a trip but I loved it. 
> 
> Warning: This chapter deals with historical racial issues in a modern dialogue. I am a white woman of a minority religion and I did the very best I could to address this in a sensitive, culturally literate way but this story is told from the third person limited point of view of a white male with all that implies. If you want to know more than that about the subject before you read the chapter, check out the end notes. You really do need to read the last ~500 words to know what's up for the next chapter though.
> 
> As ever, for [Errant Tumbleweed](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2673695/chapters/Errant%20Tumbleweed) because I'm nothing without you. Endless thanks to everyone who commented! I am so thrilled and glad you are still with me.
> 
> Once more, checked by me multiple times but unbeta'd by an outside party because I thought you'd want it sooner rather than perfect. 
> 
> Research-y details at the bottom cuz people seemed to like that last time?

Tony shows up fresh off a mission in Paraguay picking off rogue HYDRA agents in a jungle base looking haggard. He’s still in the Iron Man suit with pieces of plants in his hair and everything. “Hey, is my blender in here?”

Steve blinks at him. “Don’t you have something like six blenders?”

“Yeah but the one in my lab is the best. Dum-E and U don’t know where it is. It was there when we went wheels up. JARVIS says it’s in here so I’m really asking as a formality.”

Okay, well, that’s surprising. “I’m sorry, are you saying I stole your blender?”

Tony waves a hand. “God no. For all I know it got up and walked away. Sometimes I make shit, not in my sleep exactly but it might as well be? So mean that literally.”

The idea of a little blender with legs like a spider is just horrifying. He does not want that on his floor, not for one second. He steps back and extends a hand in invitation. “By all means.” 

“Thanks, Cap.” He clunks across the floor. “Here blender, blender, blender.” He sighs. “A good appliance should come when called.”

“Yeah, I know the icebox we had when I was growing up always came to heel when I whistled.”

“You’re hilarious.”

“I’ll be here all week.”

Tony flips him a red and gold middle finger. “Seriously, you’d think if I were going to build something that could run away from me I’d give it a tracking device for safe measure.”

Steve snorted as Tony dropped to his knees to check under the chairs in the kitchen. It was very dignified with the suit clanging around. “That would require you to think.”

“Hilarious. They should give you a podcast. Comedy with Cap. It’d be number one on iTunes in 24 hours, you watch. ”

“Don’t think Pepper didn’t try.” And oh man hadn’t that been a fun conversation. Humanizing him, she’d called it, making people less likely to be exploitative if they knew he was just a regular guy who did regular things. Steve had turned it down cold. He felt exposed enough most of the time, thanks. He missed the privacy of the past so much it ached sometimes. 

“I’m more surprised she didn’t succeed,” Tony admits. “She doesn’t usually take no for an answer.”

Steve rests a hand on his belly as he follows Tony out of the kitchen and into the living room. The baby isn’t kicking yet but an email Dr. Javed said that any day now he could. Of course it could be another two weeks or more. He’s only sixteen weeks along but it’s enough to know his little boy is in there, moving, even if he can’t sense it yet. Things like that do a lot to strengthen his resolve, which has always been pretty concrete to begin with. “I was firm.”

That earns him another chuckle. “I’ll bet. Hey, you mind if I check the other rooms? I mean the kitchen makes the most sense but-‘

“But if you gave it consciousness it’s not necessarily going to be somewhere that makes sense?” Steve asks, amused.

“Bingo.”

Because he doesnt want Nat, Sam, and Clint to turn on him as one, he pulls out his cell phone and films Tony crawling around on his carpet in the suit, cursing and hogcalling a blender. The experience is not better than, say, shower sex with Bucky but it tops everything in his Netflix cue. He thinks the practice not laughing will come in handy too. 

He can think of a few incidents off the top of his head that his mother and Winifed Barnes both should have cackled at that he and Bucky got into before they were ten that she managed to keep a straight face for. Tony can be like a training module. With their genetics, he'll probably need it.

After about two hours of extremely entertaining ferreting on Tony's part, he climbs to his feet for the last time and sighs.

"No luck?"

"No. I don't get it but it will turn up. I've got JARVIS looking for it."

"Well, God speed man."

"Your support is always appreciated, Captain." Tony says glibbly. "Say hi to Mr. Freeze for me."

Steve murmurs an agreement but he hasn't seen Bucky much over the last week or so, not since he lost his cool so spectacularly at movie night. He'll see him out of the corner of his eye when making lunch only to find him gone when he turns around to offer him a sandwhich or startle at his weight on the bed only to wake up to an empty mattress. Steve doesn't know how he's supposed to fix shit if Bucky isn't around to talk to but there isn't much he can do.

The next day, he gets up early to meet Sam for a run in Central Park. He'd thought for awhile there that he couldn't do this anymore because of the pregnancy but Dr. Javed had assured him that as long as he didn't push himself he was fine. Plus, if his wonky center of gravity sent him ass over elbows, which it hadn't so far, Sam had medic training. Of course, having his support hadn't stopped Steve from making sure that his civilian camouflage included a Rangers hoodie.

"I'm decking your baby boy out in Yankee gear, Rogers," Sam declared upon seeing him. "So help me, I will."

"You're all talk, Wilson," Steve said, grinning. "Ready to eat my dust."

"Yeah. I can't wait to see your ass waddling ahead of me, mama."

Even in his second trimester he could go faster than Sam but he kept pace with him instead. It was good. They could talk like this. Sam told him about another veteran's benefits bill had stalled in the Senate, bemoaning how the ancient Bolognese woman who'd lived in the building long enough to remember when Steve was in the newsreels kept foisting cannoli and zuppa on him for being "a good boy" so often he was going to get fat, and crowing that he'd beaten Natasha sparring the other day.

"You're so full of shit," Steve says at that last detail. He may have fought aliens and seen magical cubes make madmen disappear but his suspension of disbelief only went so far. "There's no way."

"It's true," Sam protests. "Although, she was unarmed and, uh, I was wearing the Falcon gear."

He snorts. "Yeah. That sounds more like it."

"Hey, man, shut up. It was her idea and if you keep talking like that I won’t show you the thing I was going to show you, distract you from how your man’s been being a bitch lately.”

“Oh.” Steve holds up his hands. “Heaven forbid I don’t see the thing.” He smiles. “Seriously though, I believe you. If she wanted to she had a reason.”

“Yeah. She wanted to know how she’d do if she were unprepared. The answer is terrifyingly well, surprising no one. Anyway, follow me.” 

“To the thing.”

“Yes, asshole, to the thing. On your left.” Then Sam takes off north. Steve laughs like he hasn’t in weeks as he runs after him until they come to a gasping, at a plaque near Mariner’s Gate.

Steve reads the five paragraphs quickly, stunned. “Jesus.”

“Yeah,” Sam says, folding his arms over his chest. “I was deployed when they started doing excavations on Seneca Village but you know, you want to read about stuff that’s not current event and it doesn’t get much less current.” 

“I didn’t even know this place even existed.” Steve says, staring at the rolling green field where, according the the plaque, a neighborhood of mostly free blacks and some Irish immigrants prospered before the park was built. “I mean, it’s Central Park. It’s always been here.”

Sam shrugs. “Not according to what they dug up. Apparently the people who lived here before the city kicked them out to build the park were actually pretty well off. Black people living here owned property at a higher rate than people in the entire state of New York. The Irish weren’t doing to bad either.” 

“But they got their lives ruined anyway,” Steve observes. The establishment destroying the weak for their own selfish purposes is one of the stories of America. It makes him glad he took SHIELD apart, even without HYDRA because sometimes he forgets that the people who are supposed to be in charge can be another bully. 

“Yeah.” Sam sighs. “They protested, didn’t go down easy. Had a feeling you’d like that part. Besides, it’s a piece of the city that’s even older than you that I could school you in for once. I figured you’d be interested.” He looks around. “It’s not just history, but our history you know?” 

Steve does like history, so long as it’s not other people picking apart his history. He likes learning about what happened in the world while he was frozen but before the war, he liked other kinds of history too. As a kid, the old timers in the neighborhood who always had stories, about the old country, about the Great War, about what the city was like when they were young and Steve spent a lot of time listening to them talk while his mom was at work. Then he got to art school, found art history and was hooked. 

This is more than just Sam indulging Steve’s nerdiness though. There are countless historical sites all over the city he could have brought Steve too but he brought Steve here because it’s clear that Seneca Village’s very existence effects him deeply, regardless of whether or not he personally had any ancestors who lived in there before it was erased. The accomplishments that were made in the oppression of a pre-Civil War America is something he’s proud of and the destruction for the sake of white comfort and privilege is something he’s furious about. He doesn’t say any of that but Steve can read it in the things he does say though, in the set of his muscles, and the line of his back and shoulders. 

Steve is honored and touched that Sam would share it with him, even if he knows he can’t understand anymore than he could understand what it meant to Morita to have his family back in California in a damn concentration camp or for Jones to fight shoulder to shoulder with him and Buck and Dugan as equals only to go back to Georgia and live a life where he was forced to the back of the bus. He can listen though, and he can do his best to learn and appreciate.

He reaches out and squeezes Sam’s shoulder. “Thanks, man. This is…” There’s no positive word Steve can use because what happened here is such a tremendous act of racial injustice. So he just nods and squeezes Sam’s shoulder again. “Thanks.”

He wants to say something stupid, about how he never had a brother before (not even Bucky because Bucky was different than a brother), about how he loves him, about how he wants him to be his son’s godfather for so many reasons, not just this, least of all this/ He wants to say a few other stupid things that might come across as dated or racist or patronizing or mushy or god all four. Instead he just kind of stands there until Sam turns that megawatt grin on him. 

“Want me to show you around?” Sam asks. “There were a active digs awhile ago and they’ve still got stuff marked.”

“Definitely.” Because he does really love historical sites. Getting to see one without the “fossil” teasing for once will be nice.

They wander the site for over an hour. Sam pulls up an interactive tour on his phone and the follow it to different sites on field. There’s two churches, and a multiple family homes, and the African Union. There’s more, underneath, that Sam points out on the map but they’re not live digs. Steve takes way too many pictures considering most of it is just grass and trees but he still remembers when personal cameras were so expensive owning one was just a fantasy so he takes as many as he likes. 

He’s taking a picture of a tree that used to be someone’s living room when his phone vibrates. Text floods the screen and JARVIS’s voice declares clearly and startlingly loudly, “All Avengers and essential Avengers personnel, please assemble in the main common room of Avengers Tower.” JARVIS sounds pinched, somehow, tight. “Please submit your ETA immediately for calculations of estimated meeting time. Thank you.” 

Sam’s phone had gone off two with the same message and looks at him confused. “Was that an Avengers Assemble call? Because they’re usually more urgent.”

“I don’t know maybe it’s a code orange instead of a code red?”

“I don’t know but JARVIS sounds…” Sam makes a face like he’s just eaten old pickles. “Uncomfortable. How can an AI sound uncomfortable? It’s an AI.”

“Don’t ask me. It’s JARVIS.” Steve turns his attention back to his StarkPhone. “JARVIS, we’ll be at the tower in about thirty minutes.”

“Thank you, Captain Rogers, Airman Wilson.” JARVIS doesn’t say anything else. He just cuts back to the camera on Steve’s phone.

“What do you think it is?” Sam asks once they’re on the subway.

“I just need it not to be aliens again,” Steve sighs. “You don’t want to deal with aliens, Sam. You really don’t.”

“You don’t need to convince me. The Asgardians are enough for me and they’re friendly.”

When they get to the common room, it’s surprisingly full. Steve hadn’t been sure what essential personnel meant but it really meant everyone: on top of Bucky and Pepper are Dr. Foster, Darcy Lewis, Colonel Rhodes, Maria Hill, Phil Coulson, even Nick Fury back from the dead. They’re all scattered around the room, standing or sitting in the chairs and couches or arriving like Steve and Sam. In the center of it all, stands Thor looking devastating in a tailored salmon button-down with the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows and dark blue jeans tucked into sturdy black boots, his hair pulled back into a loose queue at the base of his neck. 

Asgardians don’t have dynamics but if they did Thor would be an Alpha, one who makes Steve do a full on double take. He’s mated, not dead. Across the room though, he can see Bucky’s jaw tense just the slightest bit at his reaction to the sight of Thor. Despite everything they’ve been going through lately, Steve feels a tiny thrill knowledge that Bucky is present enough to be jealous. 

He doesn’t get to dwell on it for long because JARVIS’s voice fills the room. “Your Highness, everyone you requested is present. The floor is yours.”

Everyone is looking at Thor now. He folds his arms over his chest and clears his throat. “Friends, comrades, I gathered you because a remarkable event has occurred and I wish to discover the cause. It is possible that for many of you, your presence will not have been needed and for that I apologize but I must be sure. I hope that all of you will understand and forgive my impertinence but it is utmost importance to me and possibly to Asgard.”

“What is it, man?” Fury snaps. “I rose from the damn grave for this.” 

Darcy, Clint and Tony can’t hold their laughter back at that. Steve just barely restrains himself and so does Sam. Natasha, sprawled on a couch like a cat in the sun, glances from Maria to Pepper the three women exchange smiles. Bucky and Coulson are pillars of stone and Jane looks like she wants to sink into the ground.

Thor takes a deep breath. “Mjölnir has gone missing.” He looks around the room at every one of them in turn. “And I know that one of you moved it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:  
> First the racial stuff:  
> 1)Sam and Steve go to the site of Seneca Village in Central Park. Seneca Village was a thriving community of consisting predominantly of free African-Americans and a number of Irish immigrants(about 30%) who lived together in part of what is now roughly 82th to 87th-ish Street from 1825 to 1857. The families who lived there were primarily middle-class and financially successful, many of them were property owners in a time when slavery still existed. Of the 91 African-Americans who could vote in the state of New York, 10 of them lived in Seneca Village.  
>   
> 3)In the 1850s a bunch of white upper-class guys said "Let's build a grand public park in the middle of Manhattan!" And then they got the city to use eminent domain(which is a code for government stealing land, don't let anyone tell you different) to kick a successful, self-sustaining community with churches and schools and stores and cemeteries of over 260 people out of their homes. In less than 2 years the entire village had been razed to the ground and a flourishing black and immigrant community basically erased from the memory of the city so that NYC could have the glory of Central Park blemish free.  
> 4)Yeah. It's supremely fucked up and people only really started talking again in 1997 when [an exhibit was put on in the park.](http://www.nytimes.com/1997/01/31/arts/a-village-dies-a-park-is-born.html?pagewanted=all)  
> 5)Then nobody excavated it until ~2011? So Seneca Village basically sat there under a playground and a bunch of grass and trees for a dozen years because of funding before Columbia University was able to get in and physically find out what is still there. There's still more there to find and they haven't been able to access it. Everything else known about Seneca Village is from census records and other written data. You can check out the details about the excavation and an ineteractive map of the village and who used to live there at [the website which is very cool.](http://www.mcah.columbia.edu/seneca_village/index.html)  
> 6)No commemorative monument was put in place until 2001.[ It doesn't mention how grossly racist and xenophobic the entire thing was. ](http://www.localecology.org/images/park_seneca_village_1.jpg)  
> This is what the national park service shows you when you go to the Seneca Village Page:  
> [](http://tinypic.com?ref=119q81x)  
> Secondly, why and how I did it:  
> 7)I did the best I could to put this in the context that Sam is a successful black man and Steve is a successful child of Irish immigrants and they're looking at a past success of their(but mostly Sam's) heritage that was erased versus their own futures.  
> 8)I tried to have this not be Sam teaching Steve about racism because Sam is a great friend but Sam is not "a good bro" if you get me. This is more about Sam deciding sharing something that mattered to him and something that is, in a way, part of their shared history with his best friend.  
> 9)All racial stuff aside, I headcanon Steve as a history geek and I thought that Sam would think that Steve would think that this was cool. Since Steve has been bummed about the Bucky stuff and needs a distraction, I think Sam might take him to a neat place and art museums feel played out.  
> 10)Most importantly, I straight up needed Steve to be somewhere other than the tower when Thor called his meeting and I figured why **not** Seneca Village since Sam and Steve like to run and running in Central Park is such a popular activity? Seems perfectly plausible that they could visit it to me. 
> 
> Other stuff:  
> 11)Zuppa can mean lots of foods. I meant this zuppa.  
> [](http://tinypic.com?ref=e88k6u)  
> 12)For your imagining assistance - Thor's shirt is this style of the top pic and his hair is like it was at the Age of Ultron party. Balder's balls, he is so pretty.  
> [](http://tinypic.com?ref=rr2ws9)  
> [](http://tinypic.com?ref=zlq3yb)  
> 13)Title is a terrible pun from the expression "It takes a village to raise a child" that plays on the fact that they went to Seneca Village and Steve is preggers. I'm sorry. I couldn't help myself. I literally have no excuse.


	27. A Problem Worth Discussing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there is a team meeting and someone has tampered with JARVIS.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hiya guys! So, again, thank you so so much for the support! I have enjoyed the hell out of all the guesses about what's going on. So much love for the Blender/Mjolnir shipping, I can't even. Super great times yall. Just awesome. <333 
> 
> However, it needs to be noted that I am back in school so I am super busy. Therefore: **_I am NOT abandoning this story but I have no idea when the next update will be._**
> 
> As always, my deep and abiding thanks to [An Errant Tumbleweed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryogenia/pseuds/An%20Errant%20Tumbleweed) without whom this would not be possible.

Chaos explodes in the group. Almost everyone is talking over each other at once. Thor is the calm eye of the storm and Jane moves to stand at his elbow, her hand on her forehead, shaking her head. She says something that Steve thinks is “-I said, didn’t I?”

Thor says nothing in response. He merely drapes one strong arm around her shoulders and pulls her to him so he can kiss the spot where her hairline begins. That seems to loosen her up and she leans against him a little. Steve does not feel envious of their closeness. He does not. 

Clint’s taken the opportunity to get near Coulson. Tony has gravitated towards Coulson as well but has not stopped flailing at Pepper and Rhodey.

“You know I didn’t do it, right, Big Guy,” Darcy asks, patting Thor on one massive shoulder. “I would never hurt Mew-Mew.”

“It is not a question of hurt,” Thor replies. “That is why you cannot be removed from the equation Lady Darcy. You could be worthy. Any of you could be. Worth in regards to the capacity to wield Mjölnir can and does change over time with experience, intent and other more ephemeral precepts. I of all people should know that. It is not a mortal judge and so it is not for us to say.”

“It’s not actually magic you know,” Jane muses. “It’s fixed quantum point. It just resonating at the same quantum frequency as Thor. Which is just as cool as magic when you think about it.”

“No,” Clint says curtly. “It’s not. Trust me. Asgardian magic is magic.”

And boy doesn’t that just bring the whole fucking room to a screeching, silent halt because suddenly everyone is reminded of that first time, the one that brought them together, when Clint was lost to Loki. Even people like Jane, Darcy and Rhodey who weren’t there know about it. Steve watches a little enviously as Coulson puts his hand on the back of Clint’s neck and squeezes. Clint leans into the support the slightest bit.

Steve hadn’t known Clint then, hadn’t loved him but remembering the experience makes his chest clench because he does now. He doesn’t like to think of Clint powerless in his own mind. More selfishly, he really, really doesn’t like drawling the parallel to Clint’s experience and Bucky’s brainwashing in how banished a man could be from himself.

“Weilding Mjölnir has implications for the political structure of Asgard, regardless of the source of its power. I could call it but that would not tell me who moved it in the first place.”

“This is an easy fix. We’ll just have JARVIS show us any footage he’s got of Mjölnir in the last twenty-fours. J-man, what’ve we got?”

“I don’t think it’s that simple or Thor would have gotten us together like this, Tony,” Pepper says gently.

“Indeed. I asked your assistant if he knew and he said he did not.” 

“Ms. Potts and Mr. Odinson are correct, sir. I have no such footage.”

Tony looks cornobbled. In fact, he even staggers backwards a step, right into Rhodey’s chest. Darcy giggles a little but it’s nervous laughter. She’s not one of them so she doesn’t really understand but she’s not stupid and she can read a room. but Steve can feel anxiety prickle down his spine like ice water. “But- How-Everything’s recorded. Everything. I have cameras in every inch of the tower. I even put them in the vents after that shit you pulled with the peanut butter, Barton.“

“I do not know, sir. I am reviewing all video since Mr. Odinson's arrival from Asgard and there seem to have been archived portions…erased.”

“That’ can’t happen.” Tony says.

“Your system must not be as secure as you thought,” Coulson replies coolly. “Because clearly it can.”

“No, actually, it can’t.” Tony snaps, whirling on him. “The system has multilevel encryption and firewalls. At different levels it requires DNA and fingerprints for access. They’d basically have to cut off my my hands and wave them around in the holographic computers to get at JARVIS’s memory banks.” He holds them up palms out. “Yet lo, still attached.”

That shuts everyone up for a few long seconds. Fury breaks the silence, taking in the whole of the room in one long, slow pass as he speaks. “Where the hell is Barnes?”

Steve’s head jerks to look in the corner where Bucky had been standing. It’s empty. All the blood drains from his face, he can actually feel it happening. “Shit.”

“Language, Captain. Your kid’s got ears by now.” Clint tries too tease but it falls flat. 

Everything falls flat because Bucky took Thor’s hammer. Bucky has Thor’s hammer. Bucky is _worthy_ of Thor’s hammer and now he is missing in action and isn’t that just fucking perfect.

“Search party?” Bruce asks, already sounding exhausted.

“We’ve got a half-sane assassin with a super space weapon who can crack Stark’s security wandering around unchecked. You bet your ass there’s going to be a search party,” Fury says. “ Finding him is our first priority.”

“James can’t hurt anyone,” Natasha cuts in. “Clint and I have trained with him a few times.”

“You have?” Steve is shocked. Bucky hadn’t said anything and neither had Clint or Natasha. It’s reassuring that Bucky’s socializing but it’s also disappointing in away, that he would reach out to them and not to Steve. 

Natasha nods. “The two of them can’t do hand to hand and when we pulled out the bo staffs, James couldn’t follow through with impact even in self-defense if it meant Clint got hit.”

“It was a little disappointing actually,” Clint agrees. “I kinda wanted to see how I could hold up against him.”

“I don’t think he could use Mjölnir as an actual weapon.”

“With Mjölnir he can call lightning to targets at his will,” Thor says grimly. “He need not use it as a blunt instrument.”

“But he’s worthy,” Darcy cuts in. “If Mew-Mew let itself be taken to wherever this guy wanted to go with it, then it knew it would be okay, right? I mean, that’s the deal. You gotta be worthy, like you.” She gives Thor a little punch on the arm. “And you wouldn’t do anything to hurt us so neither would he. Right?”

Thor smiles at her. It’s one of his big, true smiles that probably light those great Viking halls in Asgard that he’s always telling stories about. “Of course I wouldn’t Darcy. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t need to be found.”

“Yeah, if we’re going with the hypothesis that the hammer is borderline sentient and runs on actual magic over Dr. Foster’s fixed quantum point idea, then she is probably right,” Bruce agrees. Jane gives him a slightly betrayed look, which Steve thinks is a scientist thing, but doesn’t disagree. She’s probably seen things, just like all of them. 

“See?” Darcy demands. “A god and a genius doctor both think I’m right. I don’t know why you guys don’t all just listen to me from the beginning. I usually am.” This shot in the general direction of Coulson and Fury, which is interesting. Steve wishes it were anyone but Bucky who were behind this so he could try and figure that story out. 

But it’s not. This is whole thing is Bucky’s doing so there’s no time for anything but finding him. Again. Damnit, damnit, dammit.

"JARVIS? Where are we blind?" Tony demands. "And why haven't we fixed it yet?"

"Intermittent video outages have been experienced in the elevator shaft but not the elevator itself and in the air conditioning vents. I have been conducting regular maintenance whenever outages occur without any problems. Further analysis is showing adjustments to my video archives. As I said, footage has been removed while other footage has been replaced with looped footage. It should have turned up in routine systems check, however, it appears that additional coding was implanted to create an effective blind spot that was not observable until a deeper systems check was performed."

"A glamour," Thor hums. "Most ingenious."

"Mr. Odinson is missing some of the more technical aspects but he is not incorrect," JARVIS agrees. "Yes, there appears to be a digital glamour in my programing that I can observe now that I am scanning for it but was otherwise blind to. As to your other request, sir, currently, the only outage is on Captain Roger's floor, focused in the guest bedroom. However that is routine as privacy mode has been engaged."

"Figures," Tony mutters. "Alright team. Field trip."

"No." Steve says sharply. "This isn't your place, Tony."

"Actually, I think you'll find that it is. It's my place. My building. My security system your mate's been tampering with on a regular basis. I welcomed the guy into my home and he's messing with JARVIS, Steve. JARVIS. You know I'd never mess with your kid. Why should I let him mess with mine?"

That feels like a slap and Steve swallows hard but doesn't reply. Not after everything Tony's done for him, been to him. He doesn't understand the bond the man has with his machines but emotion is emotion. He respects Tony so he can respect that.

Other people don't seem to. "That is deeply disturbing, Stark," Fury cuts in. He glances at Pepper. "Did you know he personalizes his computer to that extent?"

Pepper just smiles and nods, unperturbed. "You should see what he'd do if you scratched DUM-E. He’s very protective of his first born."

"Like a proud Alpha and their baby Omega's first date," Darcy laughs.

"Shut up all of you." Steve snaps, instantly feeling bad at the look of hurt that crosses the girl's face. She's only a couple of years younger than he is biologically but in experience it might as well be eons. Still, he doesn't back down. "This isn't funny. Bucky is, god I don't even know what. But he's got Thor's hammer and he's sabotaging the tower and he's clearly not as stable as we thought. This is a real problem not a joke."

"Oh come on," Clint says. "It's pretty hilarious. I mean the Winter Soldier, the most ruthless assassin of all time, no offence Nat, is worthy." 

Natasha shrugs. "None taken."

"And he got you Mjölnir. A magical space weapon is even even better nesting gift than a jet, Cap. You gotta admit that is pretty funny. If I weren't afraid you'd punch me in the face, I'd be laughing my ass off right now."

"Nesting gift?" Thor asks, face a picture of puzzlement. "We do not have this tradition on Asgard."

"Yeah. It's an Alpha thing, a biological imperative. When their mate is pregnant, they get stuff they think will be good for making a home for their new family. It's actually kind of sweet. I bet that's where my yoga mats are, in his little nest."

Fury rolls his eyes. It's more disturbing now that it was when he wore the patch, the milky dead one working in concert with dark brown. "It never ceases to be disturbing how much you know about babies, Barton," he observes, arms folded over his chest.

"Well, you remember the Budapest op fall out. Besides, totally I want kids someday. Three would be good. A boy and two girls. Girls are great."

"You do?" Coulson asks breathlessly.

Clint's sharp grin goes soft. "Yeah. I do."

Oh, Steve feels a painful ache in his chest at the look on his face because he knows that look. He's worn that look. That look is why they don't have time for this.

"Okay. So, Thor and Tony can come with me. Everyone else," he pauses and then laughs. " You know, I don't actually care what you do. Just don't follow us."

Clint gives him a little salute. "Aye, aye, Captain. You," he points at Coulson. "Come with me. I think we should practice."

"Practice?"

"Mm-hm." Clint says as he takes Coulson by the tie. "Making kids."

And that's it. That's literally all Steve can take. He turns on his heel and stalks from the room, not bothering to see if Thor and Tony are following him. He doesn't need to. He knows they are.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, notes time!
> 
> 1) Jane's theory about Mjölnir being a fixed quantum point is not my idea. It comes from the discussion in [this tumblr post](http://dancinbutterfly.tumblr.com/post/149439795060/esculentesset-blueflame91-ecumenicalseeker). You should check it out because it's fucking brilliant. I blatantly stole it because it was so on point and seems like something Jane would say. 
> 
> 2) To the best of my understanding, and I could be wrong, Mjölnir has some pretty intense political implications in Asgard. Thor's princehood was connected to his worthiness to wield it as much as his descent from Odin, which if you ask me is ridiculous because monarchical governments are inherently flawed and problematic as they remove the voice of the people from the workings of government but that's a discussion for another place. 
> 
> 3) It's worth noting that while a lot of what we and the characters view as magic is in fact advanced technology in the Marvel universe, not all of it is. Marvel has pretty much established that magic is real. Looking at you, Defenders, Kun Lun, and the Hand. I am looking at you.


	28. A Note

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a note.

Hi! I graduated from my MSW program. The last year was, not exaggerating, a disaster. How disastrous? Highlights include being quarantined into inneffetiveness, having to restart my thesis project with 6 weeks left in the program and experiencing sexuality-based discrimination at my internship to a degree so severe that I ended up getting the American Civil Liberties Union involved and graduating 3 months later than all my cohort mates, with a truncated replacement internship. I had a major car wreck where my car was totalled, my father has stage 4 cancer and I'm job hunting. Also, I kinda got devoured by the Magnificent Seven fandom (JOIN US!!!!!)

So I've been a little busy this year! But! Fear not! I havent forgotten this. I'm not abandoning this. I'm working now and I'm percolating on this and my goal is to have at least one new chapter up by the new year. I know thats a long way out but hey, I'm hoping Thor will help give me the jumpstart I need to write him effectively!

To anyone still reading this, thank you for not giving up on me. ILU so.

**Author's Note:**

> Come and [tumblr](http://www.dancinbutterfly.tumblr.com) with me!
> 
> For those who are curious, the title comes from the fictional song Baby Can You Dig Your Man by the fictional Larry Underwood from the incomparable book The Stand by Stephen King. Also from the actual song Baby Can You Dig Your Man by Self which you can listen to [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LSWX1ZEMAu8) which was also inspired by The Stand.


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